239 - Far and Near the Fields Are Teeming

Far and near the fields are teeming
with the sheaves of ripened grain;
Far and near their gold is gleaming
O'er the sunny slope and plain.

REFRAIN

Lord of harvest, send forth reapers!
Hear us Lord,to Thee we cry;
Send them now the sheaves to gather,
Ere the harvest-time pass by.

Send them forth with morns first beaming,
Send them in the noon-tide's glare;
When the suns last rays are streaming,
bid them gather everywhere.

REFRAIN

Lord of harvest, send forth reapers!
Hear us Lord,to Thee we cry;
Send them now the sheaves to gather,
Ere the harvest-time pass by.

O thou, whom thy Lord is sending,
gather now the sheaves of gold;
Heavenward then at evening wending
Thou shalt come with joy untold.

REFRAIN

Lord of harvest, send forth reapers!
Hear us Lord,to Thee we cry;
Send them now the sheaves to gather,
Ere the harvest-time pass by.