Far and near the fields are teeming With the waves of ripened grain;

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The Call For Reapers Far and near the fields are teaming With the waves of ripened grain, Far and near their gold is gleaming Oer the sunny slope and plain.

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Presentation transcript:

Far and near the fields are teeming With the waves of ripened grain; Far and near their gold is gleaming O’er the sunny slope and plain. 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. 1-3 Words by John O. Thompson / Music by J. B. O. Clemm

Send them forth with morn’s first beaming, Far And Near Send them forth with morn’s first beaming, Send them in the noontide’s glare; When the sun’s last rays are gleaming, Bid them gather ev'rywhere. 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. 2-3

O thou, whom thy Lord is sending, Gather now the sheaves of gold; Far And Near O thou, whom thy Lord is sending, Gather now the sheaves of gold; Heav’nward then at evening wending, Thou shalt come with joy untold. 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. 3-3