Full Lyrics
’Tis six o’clock in the morning,
And all the house astir
With hurrying feet
Each task complete,
And join the bustle and whir,
For the fields are bright with waving grain,
The reign of the reaper is come,
We must work with our might
While the sky is bright,
And gather the harvest home,
Then we work with our might
While the sky is bright,
And gather the harvest home.
Then sing, ho, sing,
As over the fields we roam,
We’ll shout and make the welkin ring,
And gather the harvest home.
We wield no sickle or cradle
That graced the bygone day,
Since “old time” has found
In rolling round,
For us an easier way,
For the farmers ride like Titled Lords,
While over the fields they roam,
As they heap up the sheaves,
The reaper leaves,
And gather the harvest home,
As they heap up the sheaves,
The reaper leaves,
And gather the harvest home.
Then up at six in the morning,
And to the fields away,
The work to be done
Is rarest fun
For reaping’s better than play,
We will join the merry, sunburned band,
From morn ’til the evening’s gloam,
Then we hail with delight,
The shades of night,
And gather the harvest home,
Then we hail with delight,
The shades of night,
We’ve gathered the harvest home.
