hymnal 589
1. Far and near the fields are teeming With the waves of ripened grain;
Far and near their gold is gleaming Over the sunny slope and plain.
Lord of harvest, send forth reapers! Hear us, Lord to Thee we cry;
Send them now the sheaves to gather, Ere the harvest time pass by.
2. Send them forth with morn's first beaming, Send them in the noontide's glare;
When the sun's last lays are gleaming, Bid them gather everywhere.
Lord of harvest, send forth reapers! Hear us, Lord to Thee we cry;
Send them now the sheaves to gather, Ere the harvesttime pass by.
3. O thou, whom thy Lord is sending, Gather now the sheaves of gold;
heavenward then at ev'ning wending, Thou shalt come with joy untold.
Lord of harvest, send forth reapers! Hear us, Lord to Thee we cry;
Send them now the sheaves to gather, Ere the harvesttime pass by.
4. When the harvest is completed And the last grain safely stored,
Then with joy shall we be seated At the banquet of the Lord.
Lord of harvest, send forth reapers! Hear us, Lord to Thee we cry;
Send them now the sheaves to gather, Ere the harvesttime pass by. Amen.