"The harvest is great, but the labourers are few."
My Father is a husbandman,
A King, and wealthy too!
I want to help Him all I can-
There's so much work to do!
His Harvest-field is, oh, so vast!
And labourers hard to find:
The time will all too soon be past
In which the sheaves to bind!
I see a lot of broken hearts,
That must be gathered in,
And bound by love which grace imparts,
Renewed and freed from sin
And there are souls in dark despair,
That surely will be lost-
Unless someone will hasten there,
And save them, at all cost!
And there are others in distress,
Without a Light or Guide,,
All hedged about by wickedness,
Yet many a sheaf will there be found
That can be garnered in:
The grace of God much more abounds
Than does abounding sin. (Rom.5:20)
My Father's business- Oh, how vast! (Luke 2:29)
His service - what delight!
While thus on earth my lot is cast,
I'll toil from morn till night.
Then to His Mansion in the skies,
When harvesting is done.
I'll bear my sheaves, receive a prize,
And wear the crown I've won.
-Albert E. Elliott
(brother of George Elliott
the founder of Western Tract Mission)