463 All Hallows. C.M.

Oh! still in accents sweet and strong
Sounds forth the ancient word, --
"More reapers for white harvest fields,
More laborers for the Lord!"

2 We hear the call; in dreams no more
In selfish ease we lie,
But girded for our Father's work,
Go forth beneath his sky.

3 Where prophet's word, and martyr's blood,
And prayers of saints were sown,
We, to their labors entering in,
Would reap where they have strown.

S. Longfellow.