Ripe, surely ripe is the field world over;
Amazingly, udderly amazing, far and near work isn’t over!
Pilgrims, O saints, gathering before us is Storm of Storms!
Woe to us! Lo, the Enemy’s dark cloud forms!
Whom shall we send?
Shall complacency and indifference ever end?
Terrible times are coming-yet great power has our King.
As those in Heaven behold, saints march, sing, war and win.
O saints, the Creator’s heritage, ignorance and procrastination yields danger!
Recall now, and ever-cherish-wisdom of One in the manger.
Now, stand up amidst this apostasy, and be counted!
Great, fearful changes ‘re pending; yet by faith saints won’t be haunted.
Who shall go for us?
All ‘re busy; but God hasn’t intended it thus.
Eleventh hour labourers-where ‘re you?
Into line come now, before He pronounces a woe!
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(c)2012: Elder ORBERT GWIZA,Zimbabwe.
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