O list to the mu­sic that floats on the air,
The val­leys are smil­ing, the reap­ers are there;
The sum­mer re­wards us with plen­ty again;
Then thrust in the sic­kle and ga­ther the grain.

Refrain

Gather the grain, ga­ther the grain;
Thanks for the sun­shine, the dew, and the rain;
Sunshine is yield­ing its har­vest again,
Then thrust in the sic­kle and ga­ther the grain.

O why should we tar­ry from la­bor to­day?
The reap­ers are call­ing, and we must away;
The sky is un­cloud­ed and soft is the wind;
The bright sheaves are wav­ing and rea­dy to bind.

Refrain

We ask of the Mas­ter, our strength to re­new,
Tho’ great is the har­vest, the toil­ers are few;
We pray that to oth­ers His grace He may give,
To work and be faith­ful as long as they live.

Refrain

The har­vest is pass­ing, to greet us no more,
The sum­mer is end­ing, and soon will be o’er;
Our mo­ments ne­glect­ed, re­turn not again—
Now thrust in the sic­kle and ga­ther the grain.

Refrain