When The Harvest Is Past 1-3 When the harvest is past and the summer is o'er, When glean'd is the grain that in rare beauty waved, How fearful my fate.

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When The Harvest Is Past 1-3 When the harvest is past and the summer is o'er, When glean'd is the grain that in rare beauty waved, How fearful my fate if my soul be not saved, When the harvest is past and the summer is o'er! In vain, in vain the broad field, (the broad field,) In vain, in vain the rich yield, (the rich yield,) And the ripening grain of the harvest which waved, Over hillside and plain, if our souls be not saved. When the harvest is past and the summer is o'er, When glean'd is the grain that in rare beauty waved, How fearful my fate if my soul be not saved, When the harvest is past and the summer is o'er! In vain, in vain the broad field, (the broad field,) In vain, in vain the rich yield, (the rich yield,) And the ripening grain of the harvest which waved, Over hillside and plain, if our souls be not saved. Words by A. P. Cobb / Music by J. H. Fillmore

When The Harvest Is Past 2-3 Pray'rless sinner so dear, for whom Jesus has died, He calls thee to labor obey, 'tis thy Lord, Hear His voice, reap the grain and receive thy reward, Pray'rless sinner so dear, for whom Jesus has died. In vain, in vain the broad field, (the broad field,) In vain, in vain the rich yield, (the rich yield,) And the ripening grain of the harvest which waved, Over hillside and plain, if our souls be not saved. Pray'rless sinner so dear, for whom Jesus has died, He calls thee to labor obey, 'tis thy Lord, Hear His voice, reap the grain and receive thy reward, Pray'rless sinner so dear, for whom Jesus has died. In vain, in vain the broad field, (the broad field,) In vain, in vain the rich yield, (the rich yield,) And the ripening grain of the harvest which waved, Over hillside and plain, if our souls be not saved.

When The Harvest Is Past 3-3 When the Lord shall descend and the reapers go home, The sheaves may be many, the harvest be long; But only the faithful will join in the song, When the Lord shall descend, and the reapers go home. In vain, in vain the broad field, (the broad field,) In vain, in vain the rich yield, (the rich yield,) And the ripening grain of the harvest which waved, Over hillside and plain, if our souls be not saved. When the Lord shall descend and the reapers go home, The sheaves may be many, the harvest be long; But only the faithful will join in the song, When the Lord shall descend, and the reapers go home. In vain, in vain the broad field, (the broad field,) In vain, in vain the rich yield, (the rich yield,) And the ripening grain of the harvest which waved, Over hillside and plain, if our souls be not saved.