Forth in the dawn-light,
Cool and sweet and ten­der,
While yet the dew-drops trem­ble on the flow­ers,
Seeking for la­b’rers, One doth meek­ly wan­der,
Calling, still call­ing thro’ the qui­et hours.
Go, work to­day, the flush of ear­ly morn­ing
Brightens the east, and day is com­ing on;
Go in the fresh­ness of the day’s ad­orn­ing,
Sure shall your hire be at the set of sun!

Forth while the sun rides
Higher still in heav­en,
Forth while the noon-tide’s fer­vid ra­di­ance glows,
Forth while the sha­dows length­en t’ward the ev­en,
Calling for la­b’rers, still the Mas­ter goes;
Go, work to­day! oh, where­fore yet de­lay­ing,
Stand ye still idle as the hours glide on?
Go, for the morn­ing waits not for your stay­ing,
Sure shall your hire be at the set of sun!

Lord, we have heard Thee
In our youth’s glad morn­ing;
Lord, we still hear Thee in our noon­day prime,
Hear Thee, and glad­ly, ease and pleasure scorn­ing,
Gird us for ser­vice, low­ly yet sub­lime;
Take us, our­selves to Thee we now sur­ren­der,
Take us, and use us till the day is done,
Gather us then in Thy em­brac­es ten­der,
Such let our hire be at the set of sun!