1 The angel comes; he comes to reap
The harvest of the Lord!
O’er all the earth, with fatal sweep,
Wide waves his flaming sword. MIM 120.2
2 And who are they, in sheaves to bide
The fire of vengeance bound?
The tares, whose rank, luxuriant pride
Chokes the fair crop around. MIM 120.3
3 And who are they, reserved in store
God’s treasure-house to fill?
The wheat, a hundred fold that bore
Amid surrounding ill. MIM 120.4
4 O King of mercy! grant us power
Thy fiery wrath to flee!
In thy destroying angel’s hour,
O gather us to thee! MIM 120.5