The fields are white unto the harvest, Lord,
Their golden treasures wait on every side;
But how shall all their priceless wealth be stored?
The reapers are so few, the world so wide.
Lord, send the laborers forth!
Tune Title: NUNC DIMITTEFirst Line: The fields are white unto the harvest, LordComposer: W. W. HewittMeter: 10.10.10.10.6Incipit: 55351 17132 11771Key: C Major