John Reade - The Wheat's Reward lyrics

Out of the ground I rose; the seed seemed dead, But lo! a slim green arm pushed through the sod, And by and by before my maker, God, I stood full ripe. A voice cried: "Give us bread." The wind of God went by; I bowed my head, And one approached who held a curvéd knife, And for the life of men he took my life, And ever since by me are millions fed. And then God spake these words: "O blessed weed, The lowly sister of the lily proud, Be thou my chosen messenger to shroud The mystery of my Son, the Woman's seed. Thou dreadest not the sacrificial knife-- Be thou to dying men the Bread of Life.