115 - In the Glad Time of the Harvest

In the glad time of the harvest, In the grand millennial year,
When the King shall take His scepter; And to judge the world appear,
Earth and sea shall yield their treasure, All shall stand before the throne;
Just awards will then be given, When the King shall claim His own.

O the rapture of His people! Long they've dwelt on earth's low sod,
With their hearts e'er turning homeward, Rich in faith and love to God.
They will share the life immortal, They will know as they are known,
They will pass the pearly portal, When the King shall claim His own.

Long they've toiled within the harvest, Sown the precious seed with tears;
Soon they'll drop their heavy burdens In the glad millennial years; They will share the bliss of heaven, Never more to sigh or moan; Starry crowns will then be given, When the King shall claim His own.

We shall greet the loved and loving, Who have left us lonely here; Every heartache will be banished When the Saviour shall appear;
Never grieved with sin or sorrow, Never weary or alone;
O, we long for the glad morrow When the King shall claim His own.