Waiting for His com­ing, toil­ing as I wait;
But a hum­ble work­er, in His vast es­tate;
Yet my sin­gle tal­ent must not idle lie,
He will ask the in­crease of me by and by.

Refrain

Waiting for the com­ing of the King of kings!
Be it soon or late, I’m work­ing as I wait;
How my heart re­joic­es, of His glo­ry sings,
Waiting for the King of kings.

Tho’ my lot be wea­ry—toil­ing since the spring,
Yet a time of rest­ing com­eth with my king;
Now the whit­ened har­vest waits the will­ing hand,
And the call for reap­ers sound­eth through the land.

Refrain

Toiling in the morn­ing, ’neath the sun-bright ray;
Toiling still when ev­en­ing draws his cur­tains gray;
Yet though oft­en trou­bled—wea­ry of earth’s guile,
All will be for­got­ten, when I see His smile.

Refrain