That hath not filled the hand of a reaper, And the bosom of a binder of sheaves.
Whoso goeth on and weepeth, Bearing the basket of seed, Surely cometh in with singing, bearing his sheaves!
For wind they sow, and a hurricane they reap, Stalk it hath none -- a shoot not yielding grain, If so be it yield -- strangers do swallow it up.
because he who is sowing to his own flesh, of the flesh shall reap corruption; and he who is sowing to the Spirit, of the Spirit shall reap life age-during;