Not yet is the sum­mer ended,
Not yet is the har­vest past;
But the fields with the grain are gold­en,
And the days are wan­ing fast.

Refrain

Not yet, not yet is the su­mmer ended,
Not yet is the har­vest past;
But the sea­son of hope will be over,
And the har­vest will come at last.

Not yet have the sheaves been ga­thered;
But oh! it will not be long
Till a sound from the fields shall reach thee,
Of the reap­er’s happy song.

Refrain

Not yet is the hand of mer­cy
Removed from the op­en door;
There is time for thy soul’s re­turn­ing
Ere the day of grace is o’er.

Refrain

O come, as the Lord com­mand­eth;
Not yet is the har­vest past,
And the sum­mer is not yet end­ed;
But the days are wan­ing fast.

Refrain