1
Far and near the fields are teeming
with the sheaves of ripened grain;
Far and near their gold is gleaming
O’er the summy slope and plain.
Refrain
Lord of harvest, send forth reapers!
Hear us Lord,to Thee we cry;
Send them now the sheaves to gather,
Ere the harvest-time pass by.
2
Send them forth with morn’s first beaming,
Send them in the noon-tides’s glare;
When the sun’s last rays are streaming,
bid them gather everywhere.
3
O thou, whom thy Lord is sending,
gather now the sheaves of gold;
Heavenward then at evening wending
Thou shalt come with joy untold.
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Go ye therefore,and teach all nations…….
Lord of harvest, send me,
Hear me o Lord, to Thee i cry;
Send the sheaves to gather,
Ere the harvest-time pass by. Amen
God bless
Awakening, “ere the harvest time pass by!”
Amazing song!
Send me Lord
Let’s gather quickly the harvest time is passing.
We should go and harvest. For the harvest is plentiful but the labourers are few