Classic Poem

From the harvest field there's a blessed yield,
Of a rich and ripe display;
For the Master's hand over all the land,
Gives a hundred-fold to-day
Ev'ry want supplied, ev'ry good applied,
Naught but gratitude we bring;
With a grateful heart each will bear a part,
In a tribute to our King.
With our songs of joy in his glad employ,
We will shout God's praise amain;
With the reapers' song we will join the throng,
That has gathered golden grain
After toil is done, and the vict'ry's won,
In the Canaan of our Lord,
Where the skies are bright in the holy light,
We shall have our rich reward

Then we'll gather, gather,
Then we'll gather from the valley and the plain,
Then we'll gather, gather,
With our hearts full of gladness for the bright golden grain
Then we'll gather, gather, gather, gather,
Then we'll gather, gather, gather, gather,