1 Find something to do for the Savior,
There’s so much of work to be done;
Our hands should be busy with labor
From morning till setting of sun.

Chorus:
Away to the golden reaping haste,
For want of the lab’rers the harvests waste:
Awaken, ye sleepers, go forth with the reapers,
Find something, find something to do.

2 The task which an angel might covet
Is given to you and to me;
Co-laborers here with the Savior
For winning his lost ones are we. [Chorus]

3 Why stand ye here all the day idle?
The Master’s commission is plain;
Go forth with the sickle and gather
Great sheaves of the rich, ripened grain. [Chorus]