THE CALL FOR REAPERS

1Far and near the fields are foam-ing, White al-read-y to har-vest;
Far and near their gold is gleam-ing, O'er the sun-ny slope and hill;
Lord of har-vest, send forth reap-ers! Hear us, Lord, to thee we cry;
Send them now the sheaves to gath-er, Ere the har-vest time pass by.

RefrainSend them forth with thy bless-ing, Send them forth with thy bless-ing, Send them forth with thy bless-ing, Send them forth with thy bless-ing.

2O thou whom thy Lord is send-ing, Gath-er now the gold-en grain;
Nothing doubt-ing, noth-ing fear-ing, Though the task seem great and hard;
Thou shalt doubt-less come re-joic-ing, Bring-ing in the sheaves at last.