The Harvest Call

Have you heard, friend of mine, 
of that calling divine
which the Lord of the harvest has giv’n?
Have you thought of the cost
Jesus paid for the lost?
He would save them and fit them for heav’n.

But the laborers, alas, are so few;
lift your eyes—there is so much to do!
Can we stand idly by,
while souls perish and die,
as they cry, “Is it nothing to you?”

Opportunities knock 
with each tick of the clock;
fields of harvest are gleaming and white.
Where God leads, let us serve,
from His call never swerve,
leading others from darkness to light.

Oh, the laborers, alas, are so few;
lift your eyes—there is so much to do!
Can we stand idly by,
while souls perish and die,
as they cry, “Is it nothing to you?”

Pressing on through the day, 
let us labor and pray;
let us seek out the lost in their sin.
Though with trembling and fears,
smiling still through our tears,
precious souls we’ll be gathering in.

Oh, the laborers, alas, are so few;
lift your eyes—there is so much to do!
Can we stand idly by,
while souls perish and die,
as they cry, “Is it nothing to you?”

fpn / 1967
This poem is set to music.
Published as poem #43 in Contemporary Psalms and song #34 in Sing and Give Thanks
To obtain a copy, contact Joyce



Picture: depositphotos.com #12727848, standard license