Mary Maxwell, 1875
Saints of God, the dawn is bright'ning,|
Token of our coming Lord;
O'er the earth the field is whit'ning;
Louder rings the Master's word:
Pray for reapers, Pray for reapers,
In the harvest of the Lord!
2. Now, O Lord, fulfil Thy pleasure,
3. Broad the shadow of our nation,|
Eager millions hither roam;
Lo, they wait for Thy salvation;
Come, Lord Jesus, quickly come!
By Thy Spirit
Bring Thy ransomed people home.
4. Soon shall end the time of weeping,
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