Ho! Reapers of Life’s Harvest WEBB—George James Webb Ho! Reapers of Life’s Harvest 1 Ho! reapers of life’s harvest, Why stand with rusted blade, Until the night draws round thee, And day begins to fade? Why stand ye idle, waiting For reapers more to come? The golden morn is passing, Why sit ye idle, dumb? 2 Thrust in your sharpened sickle, And gather in the grain, The night is fast approaching, And soon will come again; The Master calls for reapers, And shall He call in vain? Shall sheaves