The day is de­part­ing, its hours are past;
The shadows are fall­ing, are fall­ing fast;
The sheaves are at rest on the har­vest plain;
The reap­ers have ga­thered the gold­en grain,
The reap­ers have ga­thered the gold­en grain.

Refrain

Be rea­dy, my soul, for the Lord is near;
The sound of His com­ing is al­most here;
Be rea­dy, for list! they are call­ing thee!
The bells, the bells of eter­ni­ty;
The bells, the bells of eter­ni­ty.

The sha­dows are creep­ing o’er vale and hill;
The dews on the mount­ains are soft and still;
I know that the day­light, with wealth un­told,
Is fading away on the hills of gold,
Is fading away on the hills of gold.

Refrain

The song of the reap­ers is far away;
No long­er they toil in the har­vest day;
The mom­ents, now wait­ing, will soon be o’er;
The day will be gone, and for­ev­er­more,
The day will be gone, and for­ev­er­more.

Refrain