The fields are all white to the har­vest,
And call­ing for work­ers to­day;
The rich, gold­en grain now in­vites you,
Oh, who will the sum­mons ob­ey?

Refrain

The har­vest is call­ing,
Awake from thy sleep­ing!
For few are the work­ers,
And soon comes the night,
Go forth to the reap­ing.

The reap­ers are few for the la­bor,
And great is the need of the hour;
Go forth in the name of the Mas­ter,
For He will en­due you with pow­er.

Refrain

And pray ye the Lord of the har­vest
To send forth His reap­ers amain,
For the har­vest most sure­ly will per­ish
Unless we shall gar­ner the grain.

Refrain

And this is the pro­mise He giv­eth:
The reap­er shall wag­es re­ceive,
And ga­ther his fruit, life eter­nal:
Go forth, and the pro­mise be­lieve!

Refrain