1 Over fields that are white for the harvest—
That are waving with ripe golden grain,
Hear the Lord of the harvest entreating—
He is calling for reapers again.

Refrain:
O who to the Lord will make answer,
“Here am I, send me, send me,”
O who will go forth to the harvest,
For the Master a reaper to be.

2 Sowing-time, He has said, now, is over,
Both the Springtime and Summer are past,
And the Lord, forth is sending the reapers,
So that none of His sowing be lost. [Refrain]

3 O the bright golden days of the harvest,
Soon will end to return nevermore,
Soon the night o’er the earth will have fallen
And all work for the reapers be o’er. [Refrain]

4 Then the Sower and Reaper together,
Shall rejoice o’er the souls they have won,
They shall each from the lips of the Master
Hear the final glad welcome “Well done.” [Refrain]