One day the heav’nly Sower
Shall reap where he has sown,
And come again rejoicing,
And with him bring his own;

And then the fan of judgment
Shall winnow from the floor
The chaff into the furnace
That flameth ever more.

O holy, aweful Reaper,
Have mercy in the day
Thou puttest in the sickle
And cast us not away.

Recordings 1, 2