1 Hark! the voice of Jesus crying,
""Who will go and work today?
Fields are white, and harvests waiting;
Who will bear the sheaves away?""
Loud and long the Master calleth,
Rich reward he offers free;
Who will answer, gladly saying,
""Here am I; send me, send me.""

2 If you cannot cross the ocean,
And the heathen lands explore,
You can find the heathen nearer,
You can help them at your door.
If you cannot give your thousands,
You can give the widow's mite;
And the least you give for Jesus
Will be precious in his sight.

3 If you cannot be a watchman,
Standing high on Zion's wall,
Pointing out the path to heaven,
Off'ring life and peace to all,
With your prayers and with your bounties
You can do what God demands;
You can be like faithful Aaron,
Holding up the prophet's hands.

4 Let none hear you idly saying,
""There is nothing I can do, ""
While the sons of men are dying,
And the Master calls for you:
Take the task he gives you gladly,
Let his work your pleasure be;
Answer quickly when he calleth,
""Here am I; send me, send me.""