The fields are all white,
And the reapers are few,
We children are willing,
But what can we do
To work for our Lord in His harvest?
Our hands are so small,
And our works are so weak,
We cannot teach others;
How then shall we seek
To work for our Lord in His harvest?
We’ll work by our prayers,
By the pennies we bring,
By small self-denials—
The least little thing—
May work for our Lord in His harvest.
Until, by and by,
As the years pass at length,
We, too, may be reapers,
And go forth in strength,
To work for our Lord in His harvest.
ML 02/25/1906