Buried

Buried? Yes, but it is seed
From which Continents may feed;
Millions yet may bless the day
When that seed was laid away.

Buried! hidden! out of sight!
Dwelling in the deepest night;
Losing, underneath the sod,
Everything, except its God.

Buried, unremember’d, lost
So thinks man: but all the cost
God has counted to display
Life abundant one glad day.

Art thou buried? God's pure seed
Doth thy heart in silence bleed?
Change thy sighing into song,
Thus alone can harvests come.

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