Come, let us anew our jour­ney pur­sue,
Roll round with the year,
And ne­ver stand still till the Mas­ter ap­pear;
His ado­ra­ble will let us glad­ly ful­fill,
And our tal­ents im­prove,
By the pa­tience of hope, and the la­bor of love,
By the pa­tience of hope, and the la­bor of love.

Our life is a dream; our time, as a stream,
Glides swift­ly away,
And the fu­gi­tive mo­ment re­fus­es to stay;
The ar­row is flown, the mo­ment is gone;
The mil­len­ni­al year
Rushes on to our view, and eter­ni­ty’s here,
Rushes on to our view, and eter­ni­ty’s here.

O that each in the day of His com­ing may say,
I have fought my way through;
I have fin­ished the work Thou didst give me to do!
O that each from his Lord
May re­ceive the glad word,
Well and faith­ful­ly done!
Enter in­to My joy, and sit down on My throne!
Enter in­to My joy, and sit down on My throne!