Working For The Master In The Harvest Fi
Working for the Master in the harvest field,
Pausing not for weariness or pain!
Joyful in His service, I the sickle wield,
Gath’ring precious sheaves of golden grain.
Working till the time of rest shall come;
Waiting till the Lord shall call me home.
Working in the vineyard, toiling for the Lord,
Faithfully from dawn to set of sun;
Sweet will be the resting, rich be my reward,
When to me my Lord shall say, “Well done.” [Refrain]
Waiting for the Master in the Bulah Land,
Waiting till the welcome summons come,
Bidding me cross over to the distant strand,
There to dwell with Him in bliss at home. [Refrain]
Waiting for the Master by the river’s side,
Waiting, watching for the boatman pale,
Who will safely bear me o’er the waters wide,
To the peaceful port within the veil. [Refrain]