Scripture Verse

The harvest truly is plenteous, but the laborers are few. Matthew 9:37

Introduction

portrait
Isaac Woodbury (1819–1858)

Words: Is­aac B. Wood­bu­ry, in The Thanks­giv­ing (New York: F. J. Hunt­ing­ton, 1857).

Music: Wood­bu­ry Is­aac B. Wood­bu­ry (🔊 pdf nwc).

Anecdote

[American] Pre­si­dent Gar­field was fond of this hymn, and it was sung at his fun­er­al [af­ter his 1881 as­sas­si­na­tion].

In ad­dress­ing an au­di­ence of young peo­ple on one oc­ca­sion, Gar­field said, in sub­stance, re­gard­ing his own con­ver­sion:

“Make the most of the pres­ent mo­ment. No oc­ca­sion is un­wor­thy of our best ef­forts. God oft­en us­es hum­ble oc­ca­sions and lit­tle things to shape the course of a man’s life. I might say that the wear­ing of a cer­tain pair of stock­ings led to a com­plete change in my life.

“I had made a trip as a boy on a ca­nal boat and was ex­pect­ing to leave home for an­oth­er trip; but I ac­ci­dent­al­ly in­jured my foot in chop­ping wood. The blue dye in my home-made socks poi­soned the wound and I was kept home.

A re­viv­al broke out mean­while in the neigh­bor­hood, and I was thus kept with­in its in­flu­ence and was con­vert­ed. New de­sires and new pur­pos­es then took pos­ses­sion of me, and I was de­ter­mined to seek an edu­ca­tion in order that I might live more use­ful­ly for Christ.

It is said that this hymn has been the means of the con­ver­sion of thou­sands of souls in Aus­tral­ia and Great Bri­tain.

Sankey, pp. 149–50

Lyrics

Ho! reap­ers of life’s har­vest,
Why stand with rust­ed blade,
Until the night draws round thee,
And day be­gins to fade?
Why stand ye idle, wait­ing
For reap­ers more to come?
The gold­en morn is pass­ing,
Why sit ye idle, dumb?

Thrust in your sharp­ened sic­kle,
And ga­ther in the grain,
The night is fast ap­proach­ing,
And soon will come again;
The Mas­ter calls for reap­ers,
And shall He call in vain?
Shall sheaves lie there un­ga­thered,
And waste up­on the plain?

Mount up the heights of wis­dom,
And crush each er­ror low;
Keep back no words of know­ledge
That hu­man hearts should know.
Be faith­ful to thy mis­sion,
In ser­vice of thy Lord,
And then a gold­en chap­let
Shall be thy just re­ward.