In the harvest field there is work to do,
For the grain is ripe, and the reapers few;
And the Masterís voice bids the workers true
Heed the call that He gives today.
Labor on, labor on,
Keep the bright reward in view,
For the Master has said
He will strength renew;
Labor on till the close of day.
Crowd the garner well with its sheaves all
Let the song be glad, and the heart be light,
Fill the precious hours ere the shades of night
Take the place of the golden day.
In the gleanerís path may be rich reward,
Thoí the time seems long, and the labor hard;
For the Masterís joy, with His chosen shared,
Drives the gloom from the darkest day.
Lo! the Harvest Home in the realms above
Shall be gained by each who has toiled and strove,
When the Masterís voice, in His words of love,
Calls away to eternal day.