300 YEARS and still going


THE SOCIETY IN SCOTLAND FOR PROPAGATING CHRISTIAN KNOWLEDGE

Scottish Charity SC000270


Created by Compass Business Services Ltd - Amended August 2016

1709 - 2009

1709 - 2009


Scots  version


A farmer decided yin day to go sowin

The growin of corn, was the work he had planned

His seed was the best, and the time was weel chosen

He rose and selected a wee bit o land.


The work as expected was hard and frutratin

And hatin the waste o the seed that was blawn

He scatterd wi care sae that none would be wasted

And placed it, till all o the bag had been sown.


Now some he saw fall on the path that he’d beaten

And eaten by birds was the fate that it met

And sadly, on rocks, where the soil was tae shallow

Some sprouted, but died, for  the earth wisnae wet.


He near could have cried seeing weeds start tae flourish

Unnourished, his plants by the thorns they were pushed

Nae match for a thorn bush, the plants they soon perished

His cherished were chocked, and nae corn was produced.


Discouraged he looked, to be hopeful was hardest

He started to think that the soil was nae good

So imagine the joy, when he reaped a great harvest

The finest of yields, an abundance of food.


(Slightly slower)


This Farmer, said Jesus, is like God our Father

And rather like seed, is his word in our lives

The ground is his people, and whether we’ll bother

To have our corn ready, when harvest arrives.


Tune: The Road and Miles to Dundee

Anglicised version


A farmer decided one day to go sowing

The growing of corn, was the work he had planned

His seed was the best, and the time was well chosen

He rose and selected the best bit of land.


The work as expected was hard and frustrating

and hating the waste of the seed that was blown

he scattered with care so none would be wasted

and placed it, till all of the bag had been sown.


Now some he sawfall on the path that he had beaten

And eaten by birds was the fate that it met

And sadly, on rocks, where the soil was too shallow

Some sprouted, but died, for the earth wasn’t wet.


He nearly could cry, seeing weeds start to flourish

Unnourished, his plants by the torns they were pushed

No match for a thorn bush, the plants they soon perished

His cherished were chocked, and no corn was produced.


Discouraged he looked, to be hopeful was hardest

He started to think that the soil was no good

So imagine the joy, when he reaped a great harvest

The finest of yields, an abundance of food.


This Farmer, said Jesus, is like God our Father

And rather like seed, is his word in our lives.

The ground is his people, and whether we’ll bother

To have our corn ready, when harvest arrives.

ERICA’s PRAYER - By Erica Wishart of Paisley

Prize winner of the 2010 Prayer competition



Lord God, whose all-powerful hand created both wheat and thorn,

Grant us once again the confidence and creativity,

The vision and vigour of three hundred years ago

While we till this native soil,

Hardened as it is by years of ignorance and superstition.

Nurture and protect the seeds we scatter near and far,

That they may fall on Spirit-watered soil and grow a hundredfold,

Until their mighty branches span these lands,

A testament to those who offered the little that they had.

In the name of Jesus Christ, the great Sower of the seed, we pray.

Amen


JAMES’s HYMN of THE SOWER - By Dr. James Dunn of Wigtown

Prize winner of the 2010 Hymn competition