1 There’s but a small beginning made;
The earth is still o’ercast with shade.
Break forth, Thou Sun of righteousness,
With healing beams the nations bless.
2 Whene’er we to mankind proclaim
Thy dying love and precious Name,
Support Thy servants’ weakness, Lord,
By Thy blest Spirit, grace and word.
3 Lord of the harvest, laborers send
Who willing are their live to spend
In scorching heat and chilling cold
To bring the heathen to Thy fold.
4 When all our labor here is o’er,
And when our light shall burn no more,
When our endeavors have an end,
Then let our souls to Thee ascend.
Source: Hymnal and Liturgies of the Moravian Church #260