1 We’re little gleaners, foll’wing the reapers,
Gath’ring the grain they have missed by the way;
Patient and loyal, toiling and singing,
AS to the Lord of the harvest we pray.

2 Ours is a mission, worthy and waiting;
Small though it seem, there is much we may do—
Helping each other, kindly words speaking,
Striving each day to be useful and true.

3 Though what we gather may seem but little,
Yet in the eyes of the Master ‘tis known,
And will be counted up with His jewels,
when He shall come for His loved and His own.