Ruth the Gleaner

Long ago to Beth­le­hem

From afar re­turn­ing

Came Na­omi

sore be­reaved

For the home­land yearn­ing.

Ruth

her daugh­ter

clave to her

Idol gods for­sak­ing;

Lo

she seeks the har­vest field

As the day is break­ing.

See the reap­ers bend­ing low

See the wheat sheaves lean­ing;

See the Mo­ab­it­ess go

Gleaning

glean­ing

glean­ing.

Happy Ruth with rea­dy hands

Gleans along the bor­ders

Let some hand­fuls fall for her

Hear the mas­ter’s or­ders.

Sweet

un­self­ish

trust­ful one

When the sha­dows length­en

Rich re­ward await­eth thee

Faith and hope to strength­en.

Like this glean­er may we be

Faithful in our call­ing;

Other hands may bind the sheaves

Where the wheat is fall­ing.

But the glean­ers have their place

Precious hand­fuls sav­ing

In the gold­en har­vest fields

Where the grain is wav­ing.