HARVEST CALL by V. O. Cross

International Tract and Missionary Society · Oakland, Cal. · Aug 7, 1884

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 10, No. 30.

HARVEST CALL.

By V. O. Cross

BY V. O. CROSS.

Oh, see how the fields of earth's harvest are whitening! How great is the harvest! but laborers are few. Why stand we here idle? the Master is calling, There is work in my vineyard for each one to do.

From o'er sea and o'er land, from the South, from the North, Comes the loud cry for reapers to gather the grain; Armed with sickles of truth, let each one hasten forth, To diligent work through the hours that remain.

For lo! in the distance a storm is approaching; Already, we list to its muttering roar. Dark grows the horizon, fierce clouds are encroaching; Soon our work time is past, and the harvest is o'er.

The earnest and faithful, the true and the tried, Overcome by their labors, are falling around; Who will fill up the ranks, and whatever betide, Ever earnest, and faithfully toiling, be found?

There is work here for all,—for the young, and the old, Even children may share in this harvest of souls. For each saved one a star in their crowns of bright gold Will shine while the age of eternity rolls.

Then how can we sit idly dreaming of pleasure, And seeking the joys and the treasures of earth? Let us hasten to lay up in heaven our treasure, And gain the true riches of heavenly worth.