AWAKE! the morning cometh!
The east is all aglow!
Go, join the busy reapers,
As forth to the fields they go.
Wake, for the Lord of the harvest
Hath need of thee to-day.
The fields gleamed white in the dawning light;
Awake! and haste away! In distant sea-girt islands,
In many a summer clime,
Where seed was sown with weeping,
'Tis now the harvest time.
Wake! for the Lord of the harvest
Hath need of thee to-day;
He calls again, and the waving grain
Still beckons thee away. Art thou not strong for the reaping?
Yet haply thou shalt find,
While sheaves are bound by others,
Some gleanings left behind.
Wake! for the Lord of the harvest
Hath need of thee to-day;
Act well thy part with a willing heart;
His strength shall be thy stay. And you who cannot labor,
The Lord hath need of you.
Pray for the earnest reapers,
The toilers faint and few;
Pray ye the Lord of the harvest
That laborers he will send
To work with their might in the fields so white,
Till harvest time shall end.
—Selected.