Who shall I send, the Sav­ior is say­ing,
Forth to the fields of wav­ing grain?
Who will to­day, the sum­mons ob­ey­ing,
Gather the sheaves that strew the plain?

Refrain

Who shall I send?
Forth to the fields of har­vest white?
Who shall I send? the Sav­ior is say­ing;
Who in His ser­vice will take de­light?

Look to the fields, the har­vest is whit­en­ing,
Quickly the Mas­ter’s call ob­ey;
Early to toil, the skies are now bright­en­ing,
Gather the gold­en sheaves to­day.

Refrain

Forth to the world in wick­ed­ness lyi­ng,
Sounding the mes­sage strong and clear;
Plead with the souls the Gos­pel de­fy­ing,
Waking the lost to hope and cheer.

Refrain

Haste, ere the time of har­vest has end­ed,
Haste ere the strife and toil is o’er;
Soon will the joy of reap­ers be blend­ed
With the re­deemed for­ev­er­more.

Refrain