On the field of work ad­vanc­ing,
Sow thy seed at morn­ing light;
Cheerily the fur­rows turn­ing,
Labor on with all thy might;
Why await the far off fu­ture,
When the work be­fore thee lies?
Thou must sow be­fore thou reap­est,
Find thy rest in la­bor’s prize.

Standing still is dan­ger­ous ev­er,
Toil is meant for Chris­tians now;
Let there be, when ev­en­ing cometh,
Honest sweat upo­n thy brow;
And the Mas­ter then will greet thee,
At the set­ting of the sun,
Saying, as He pays thy wag­es,
Good and faith­ful one, well done!