Lyrics: Teresina Rowell.
Tune: Teresina Rowell.
Whose is the iron and whose is the coal
And the cattle on the rolling plain?
Whose is the width of the broad-spread earth
And the rows of rising grain?
Whose is the honey hid in the comb?
Whose is the corn knee-tall?
Whose is this life that sprouts anew
Each spring in the sun and rain?
Why must the minors lack for milk,
The workers in steel lack for bread,
When ev’ry field cries out for joy,
“I grow! They may all be fed!”
Why must men live in dirt and in dark,
Breathing a smoke-filled pall
When there is sun on wind-swept hills?
For all is its light not shed?
How can we call these gifts our own
Nor use them all men to feed?
How can we when our brothers lack
Take more than we truly need?
Men need not hunger for sunshine or bread;
Earth and Heav’n give enough for all.
When shall we learn to use Thy gifts,
O, Lord of the sprouting seed?