© 2007 The Flaming Torch, All rights reserved.
Awake,
O eyes
And look on the fields
Time ever flies
And death never yields.
White
are they
The harvest is nigh
The reapers won't stay
The lost: Hear their cry?
Who
will go?
The question rings out,
Many say no
With a resounding shout
Too
busy am I
How often 'tis heard
Let them all die
Without hearing the word.
Say
not ye
There are many months more
The husbandman may be
Standing at the door.
Whatever
is done
In reaching the lost
Whoever is won
Was from counting the cost.
Salvation
is free
The price has been made
The blood, you see
The dear Savior paid.
So,
Awake O eyes
And look on the fields
Time ever flies
And death never yields
The
reaper comes in
And says "it's your time"
The battles to win
Are all left behind
So,
Awake O eyes
Win some souls today
No time for goodbyes
When we all fly away.
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© 2007 The Flaming Torch, All rights reserved.
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