Where No Fruit Appears To Cheer Them


In the vineyard of our Father,
Daily work we find to do;
Scatter’d gleanings we may gather,
Though we are but young and few;
Little clusters, Little clusters,
Help to fill the garners too.

Toiling early in the morning.
Catching moments thro’ the day,
Nothing small or lowly scorning
While we work, and watch, and pray
Gath’ring gladly Gath’ring gladly
Free-will off’rings by the way.