Garnered sheaves from the fields so white to harvest!
Garnered sheaves richly yields life’s golden harvest!
At the feet of the Blessed Master
We would lay our garnered sheaves.
2
While the fields then are white with harvest,
And the laborers are few,
Let us strive well to fill the garner,
And be reapers staunch and true.
3
O the joy of successful labor!
O the joy of work well done!
O the joy of the Master’s praises
To the soul whose crown is won!
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