Cântăre A call to harvest

1. Up, away to the harvest field,

Gather in the golden yield;

Gird your armor and faithful be,

For the Master calleth thee.



R: Thrust your sickle in, the harvest time is here,

Labor with your might, the judgment day is near;

Thrust your sickle in, the grain is falling fast,

Haste, ere harvest time is past.



2. Always take with you faith’s bright shield,

And your sickle bravely wield;

Stand against cunning foes you see,

For the Master calleth thee.



3. Keep uplifted the word of truth,

Spreading light to hopeful youth;

Bowed to Him must be every knee,

For the Master calleth thee.



4. Take with you holy peace and love,

Lift despairing souls above;

Toil to make sinful mortals free,

For the Master calleth thee.