(Matthew, xiii.3) br br Ye sons of earth prepare the plough, br Break up your fallow ground; br The sower is gone forth to sow, br And scatter blessings round. br br The seed that finds a stony soil br Shoots forth a hasty blade; br But ill repays the sower's toil, br Soon wither'd, scorch'd, and dead. br br The thorny ground is sure to balk br All hopes of harvest there; br We find a tall and sickly stalk, br But not the fruitful ear. br br The beaten path and highway side, br Receive the trust in vain; br The watchful birds the spoil divide, br And pick up all the grain.