# 358 Far And Near The Fields Are Teeming
1. Far and near the fields are teeming With the sheaves of ripened grain; Far and near their gold is gleaming O’er the sunny slope and plain.
Refrain : Lord of harvest. send forth reapers! Hear us, Lord, to Thee we cry; Send them now the sheaves to gather, Ere the harvest-time pass by.
2. Send them forth with morn’s first beaming, Send them in the noontide’s glare; When the sun’s last rays are streaming, Bid them gather everywhere.
3. O thou, whom thy Lord is sending Gather now the sheaves of gold; Heavenward then at evening wending Thou shalt come with joy untold.