1 Behold how the fields are waving,
Unmeasured the ripened plain,
But few are the faithful gleaners,
To gather the golden grain.
Refrain:
Forth to the harvest field, then, away!
There is plenty for all to do,
The Lord of the harvest is calling,
But the reapers, alas! are few.
2 The world is the field of harvest,
And souls must be gathered in;
Go glean from the broad, rough highways,
The good from the fields of sin. [Refrain]
3 Go work, for the day is passing,
Go labor, and hope, and pray;
Go gather the priceless jewels,
Go seek for the lost today. [Refrain]
Source: Triumphant Songs No.3 #44