Hark to the music resounding,
Reapers are needed today;
Fields are all white, to the harvest
Let us be up and away!
Ever the Master is calling,
Hasten! the shadows are falling;
On to the harvest field,
Gather the golden yield,
Precious sheaves.
Forward with hearts full of gladness,
Reapers, I pray you, make haste;
Grain there is ready and waiting,
If not soon gathered, will waste;
Then let us hear you replying,
Labor with courage undying,
Send up a word of cheer,
Tell of the rest so near,
Rest at home.
Hark to the song they are singing!
See, they have treasures so rare;
Soon will the harvest be ended,
Haste, then, their trophies to share.
Let no one be idly dreaming,
Look! look! the harvest is gleaming,
Join ye the reaping band,
Lend them a helping hand,
Ere the night.
Chorus
Hark! hark! comes the song,
On! on! join the throng;
Forth with joyful, loving heart,
Bravely do your part;
Hark! hark! rings the call;
Haste! haste! one and all;
On where the harvest stands,
Waiting for willing hands
Souls to win.
Lizzie DeArmond
I am waiting for the Master,
Who will bid me rise and come
To the glory of his presence,
To the gladness of his home.
Many a weary path I’ve traveled,
In the darkest storm and strife,
Bearing many a heavy burden, -
Often struggling for my life.
Many friends that traveled with me
Reached that portal long ago;
One by one they left me battling
With the dark and crafty foe.
Yes, their pilgrimage was shorter,
And their triumphs sooner won;
Oh, how lovingly they’ll greet me
When the toils of life are done.
Yet, O Lord, I wait thy pleasure,
For thy time and ways are best;
Hear me, Lord, for I am weary;
O my Father, bid me rest.
Chorus
They are watching at the portal,
They are waiting at the door;
Waiting only for my coming
All the loved ones gone before.
Mrs. Kate M. Reasoner
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