1 One by one the sheaves are gathered,
And we see them borne away
To the feet of our Redeemer,
In the peaceful realms of day;
One by one the patient reapers
Hear the voice that whispers, come,
And they catch the distant music
Of the blessed harvest-home.
Harvest-home, O happy voices,
That forevermore shall ring.
Harvest-home among the angels,
In the presence of the King.
2 One by one the sheaves are gathered,
As the sunset hour draws near;
One by one the clouds are lifted.
And the evening skies are clear;
One by one our brother toilers
Safely cross the billlow's foam,
And they waft to us the echo
Of the blessed harvest-home. [Refrain]
3 One by one, our labor ended,
At the river we shall stand,
And with those that wait our coming
We shall reach our Father-land;
Then we lay our sheaves, though humble.
At our Saviour's feet above.
And receive his precious welcome
In a home where all is love. [Refrain]
|First Line:||One by one the sheaves are gathered|
|Author:||James L. Black|
|Refrain First Line:||Harvest home, O happy voices|