On the day of the harvest the straw is set aside,
the chaff is blown away by the wind,
and the weeds are consigned to the flames.
But the wheat, like sacks of gold,
Is gathered into the barn.
Lord, on the day of death,
the harvest of my life
will be poured out before you,
wheat and chaff and weeds together.
Let your wise hand sift through it;
then keep what is worth keeping,
and with the breath of your kindness,
blow the rest away.