Standing in the market places all the season through,
Idly saying, “Lord, is there no work that I can do?”
O how many loiter, while the Master calls anew—
“Reapers! reapers! Who will work today?”

Refrain

Lift thine eyes and look upon the fields that stand
Ripe and ready for the willing gleaner’s hand,
Rouse ye, O sleepers! Ye are needed as reapers!
Who will be the first to answer, “Master, here am I.”
Far and wide the ripened grain is bending low,
In the breezes gently waving to and fro,
Rouse ye, O sleepers! Ye are needed as reapers!
And the golden harvest days are swiftly passing by.

Ev’ry sheaf you gather will become a jewel bright
In the crown you hope to wear in yonder world of light.
Seek the gems immortal that are precious in His sight!
“Reapers! reapers! Who will work today?”

Refrain

Morning hours are passing, and the ev’ning follows fast;
Soon the time of reaping will forevermore be past.
Empty handed to the Master will you go at last?
“Reapers! reapers! Who will work today?”

Refrain