Show my father a field A A maiden stood where were ripe 1 and gathered the golden gaily she sang aff eishe bound tier sheaves and laid them about hert feet one marked her there she passed he by alone with her alid earned spoil and spoke of rest tor the sun was high and the reaper spent with toll but the maiden smiled as her glad colci said ny lady I 1 may not yield the work is great but the work la sweet I 1 toll in my fathers field gleaners of christ in our lonely toll ahen weary and fain to yield take comfort here though the la great ye toil in your father s field and the father s house lies over the hill where the gun 0 life boea down there shall e rest and the lather smile forever sour work shall crown G stuart |