Out where the reap­ers are toil­ing
Out where they ear­nest­ly call,
Let us away in the morn­ing,
There is a work for us all;
Lifting the vines that are droop­ing,
Trying their bloom to re­new,
Bathing their leaves in a fount­ain
Purer and sweet­er than dew.

Refrain

Out where the reap­ers are toil­ing,
Out where they ear­nest­ly call,
Let us away, away in the morn­ing,
There is a work for us all.

Out where the glean­ers are toil­ing,
Patiently, cheer­ful­ly still,
If we are will­ing to la­bor,
Here is a place we can fill;
Speaking a word to the wea­ry,
Helping the weak ones along,
Shedding bright sun­shine around them,
Cheering their hearts with a song.

Refrain

Out where the sheaves they are bind­ing,
Sheaves for the gar­ner above,
Go in the name of the Mas­ter,
Go in the spi­rit of love;
Hark! He is ten­der­ly say­ing,
Work in My vine­yard to­day;
Haste, for the sum­mer is wan­ing,
Harvest is pass­ing away.

Refrain