1 Oh, wake, for the day is passing,
And swiftly approacheth night!
The grain in its ripened beauty
Bends low in the valley bright!
Haste to the field of labor,
Bring the glad harvest home;
The kingdom of God is waiting,
Come, all ye reapers, come.
2 Come now with your sickles sharpened,
Make ready the shining blade;
The Master himself is working,
And calling for earnest aid. [Refrain]
3 Oh, come to the work rejoicing,
And gladly do well your part;
The Lord needeth earnest workers,
And faithful and true of heart. [Refrain]
4 Oh, wake, for the day advances!
Toil not o’er the falling leaves;
But now, for the final harvest,
Bear homeward the golden sheaves. [Refrain]
|First Line:||Oh, wake, for the day is passing|
|Title:||Haste to the Field of Labor|
|Author:||Mrs. R. N. Turner|
|Refrain First Line:||Haste to the field of labor|