Come, la­bor on!
Who dares stand idle, on the har­vest plain
While all around him waves the gold­en grain?
And to each ser­vant does the Mas­ter say,
Go work to­day.

Come, la­bor on!
Claim the high call­ing an­gels can­not share—
To young and old the Gos­pel glad­ness bear;
Redeem the time; its hours too swift­ly fly.
The night draws nigh.

Come, la­bor on!
The en­emy is watch­ing night and day,
To sow the tares, to snatch the seed away;
While we in sleep our du­ty have for­got,
He slum­bered not.

Come, la­bor on!
Away with gloomy doubts and faith­less fear!
No arm so weak but may do ser­vice here:
By feeb­lest agents may our God ful­fill
His right­eous will.

Come, la­bor on!
No time for rest, till glows the west­ern sky,
Till the long sha­dows o’er our path­way lie,
And a glad sound comes with the set­ting sun,
Well done, well done!

Come, la­bor on!
The toil is plea­sant, the re­ward is sure;
Blessèd are those who to the end en­dure;
How full their joy, how deep their rest shall be,
O Lord, with Thee!