Hark to the mu­sic re­sound­ing,
Reapers are need­ed to­day;
Fields are all white, to the har­vest
Let us be up and away!
Ever the Mas­ter is call­ing,
Hasten! the sha­dows are fall­ing;
On to the har­vest field,
Gather the gold­en yield,
Precious sheaves.

Refrain

Hark! hark! comes the song,
On! on! join the throng;
Forth with joy­ful, lov­ing heart,
Bravely do your part;
Hark! hark! rings the call;
Haste! haste! one and all;
On where the har­vest stands,
Waiting for will­ing hands
Souls to win.

Forward with hearts full of glad­ness,
Reapers, I pray you, make haste;
Grain there is rea­dy and wait­ing,
If not soon ga­thered, will waste;
Then let us hear you re­ply­ing,
Labor with cour­age un­dy­ing,
Send up a word of cheer,
Tell of the rest so near,
Rest at home.

Refrain

Hark to the song they are singing!
See, they have trea­sures so rare;
Soon will the har­vest be ended,
Haste, then, their tro­phies to share.
Let no one be id­ly dream­ing,
Look! look! the har­vest is gleam­ing,
Join ye the reap­ing band,
Lend them a help­ing hand,
Ere the night.

Refrain