#397THE CALL FOR REAPERS

Words: Unknown
1
Far and near the fields are foam-ing, White al-read-y to har-vest; Far and near their gold is gleam-ing, O'er the sun-ny slope and hill; Lord of har-vest, send forth reap-ers! Hear us, Lord, to thee we cry; Send them now the sheaves to gath-er, Ere the har-vest time pass by.
2
O thou whom thy Lord is send-ing, Gath-er now the gold-en grain; Nothing doubt-ing, noth-ing fear-ing, Though the task seem great and hard; Thou shalt doubt-less come re-joic-ing, Bring-ing in the sheaves at last.
C

Chorus

Send them forth with thy bless-ing, Send them forth with thy bless-ing, Send them forth with thy bless-ing, Send them forth with thy bless-ing.

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