The reapers were busy toiling, no one had thought of ease,
Continuing their labor of gathering in the sheaves.
Tho’ hot, weary and footsore, they smiled, and hearts beat in tune,
Had not their Master told them He might return at noon?
A man thought he’d join the reapers, just a little before noontime
And gather of the harvest saying, ‘Lord, here is mine!”
“I’m sure ’twill give Him pleasure, e’en though the sheaf be small,
And perhaps it will not matter if I have no sheaf at all.”
But while in comfort lying, sleep came and touched his eyes,
And the others worked together for, the sun,
high in the skies Spoke of approaching noontime,
when their hearts did burn for Him.
At last He comes and, smiling, He grasps each roughened hand,
And they look at one another with eyes that understand
“My men, ye have been faithful, the sheaves who work well done,
Come, now, rest from your labors, receive the talents won.”
They journey with the Master to His appointed place,
Enjoy the happy love feast of gazing on His face.
And He with sweet compassion, gives them the wages due,
Prepares a feast long promised, as Lord and Savior too.
Meanwhile, the sleeper wakened, to find himself alone,
The sheaves had all been gathered, not one to call his own.
The sun was almost setting, showing the day had passed
And, faithful to His promise, the Lord had come at last
TOO LATE now with the offering, the time is past recall,
No labor means no harvest, not watching means no call
When He will bid his servants join in the marriage feast,
And live with Him forever when sin and death have ceased
THEREFORE, be up and doing, rest not with folded hands.
If hard to make some progress, be sure, God understands.
And love, with mercy blended, will shine on you from heaven,
Tis yours ifyou will seek it, to you it shall be given.
The Origin of the Organic World – Part One