|
|
| |
|
Up, away to the harvest field,
Gather in the golden yield;
Gird your armor and faithful be,
For the Master calleth thee.
Thrust your sickle in, the harvest time is here,
Labor with your might, the judgment day is near;
Thrust your sickle in, the grain is falling fast,
Haste, ere harvest time is past.
Always take with you faith’s bright shield,
And your sickle bravely wield;
Stand against cunning foes you see,
For the Master calleth thee.
Thrust your sickle in, the harvest time is here,
Labor with your might, the judgment day is near;
Thrust your sickle in, the grain is falling fast,
Haste, ere harvest time is past.
Keep uplifted the word of truth,
Spreading light to hopeful youth;
Bowed to Him must be every knee,
For the Master calleth thee.
Thrust your sickle in, the harvest time is here,
Labor with your might, the judgment day is near;
Thrust your sickle in, the grain is falling fast,
Haste, ere harvest time is past.
Take with you holy peace and love,
Lift despairing souls above;
Toil to make sinful mortals free,
For the Master calleth thee.
Thrust your sickle in, the harvest time is here,
Labor with your might, the judgment day is near;
Thrust your sickle in, the grain is falling fast,
Haste, ere harvest time is past.
|
marker 99
|
LYRICS
|
Meter:
|
.
|
|
Writer(s):
|
|
|
Trans/Adapted:
|
| |
Dates:
|
|
|
Bible Refs:
|
|
echo ' | ';
|
Hymn Writer
