The Master's Call

by Fanny J. Crosby

Hark to the Master's earnest call,
Ringing o'er field and plain;
Hasten, then reapers go ye forth
Gather the golden grain.

Go in the morning, do not wait,
Jesus is calling you;
Few are the reapers in the field,
Great is the work to do.

Haste to the fields, O reapers, haste,
Work ere the night shall come;
When fall the shades of evening round,
Shout then the "Harvest Home."

Chorus

See you not the fields already white?
Jesus bids you work while yet 'tis light.
Richest reward He offers you;
Go bear the sheaves away.