Poem October 23, 1954 Issue

COME, LABOR IN MY FIELDS TODAY

W. Preston Smith

When God we seek, God's Word obey,
We feel a full and strengthening breath;
And if we listen while we pray,
To us the Father's own voice saith,
"Come, labor in My fields today."

The ripened fields stretch fair and white,
The full grain sways on bending stems;
O Lord of harvest, source of might,
Call laborers true with heaven's hymns,
To glean and gather in fields of light.

In deepening peace we hear God say:
"Beloved, My angels go with thee;
Thrust in thy sickle—reap and pray;
Bring in the golden grain to Me
Come! labor in My fields today."

W. Preston Smith

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ABIDING IN GOD
October 23, 1954
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