Saints of God! the dawn is bright­en­ing,
Token of our com­ing Lord:
O’er the earth the field is whit­en­ing;
Louder rings the Mas­ter’s Word;
Pray for reap­ers, pray for reap­ers
In the har­vest of the Lord!

Feebly now they toil in sad­ness,
Weeping o’er the waste around,
Slowly ga­ther­ing grains of glad­ness,
While their ec­ho­ing cries re­sound,
Pray that reap­ers, pray that reap­ers,
In God’s har­vest may abound.

Now, O Lord, ful­fill Thy plea­sure,
Breathe upon Thy chos­en band,
And, with Pen­te­cost­al mea­sure,
Send forth reap­ers o’er our land;
Faithful reap­ers, faith­ful reap­ers,
Gathering sheaves for Thy right hand.

Broad the sha­dow of our na­tion,
Eager mil­lions hi­ther roam;
Lo! they wait for Thy sal­va­tion;
Come, Lord Je­sus! quickly come!
By Thy Spir­it, by Thy Spir­it,
Bring Thy ran­somed people home.

Soon shall end the time of weep­ing,
Soon the reap­ing time will come;
Heaven and earth to­ge­ther keep­ing
God’s eter­nal har­vest home.
Saints and an­gels, saints and an­gels,
Shout the world’s great har­vest home.