SL
Verse 1
Oh! still in accents sweet and strong
Sounds forth the ancient word,—
“More reapers for white harvest fields,
More laborers for the Lord!”
Verse 2
We hear the call; in dreams no more
In selfish ease we lie,
But girded for our Father’s work,
Go forth beneath his sky.
Verse 3
Where prophets’ word, and martyrs’ blood,
And prayers of saints were sown,
We, to their labors entering in,
Would reap where they have strown.