Work, While It Is Called Today

Go, labor on; spend and be spent—
Thy joy to do the Father’s will;
It is the way the Master went,
Should not the servant tread it still?

Go, labor on; ‘tis not for naught;
Thy earthly loss is heavenly gain;
Men heed thee, love thee, praise thee not,
The Master praises—what are men?

Go, labor on; enough, while here,
If He shall praise thee, if He deign
Thy willing heart to mark and cheer;
No toil for Him shall be in vain.

Go, labor on, while it is day,
The world’s dark night is hastening on;
Speed, speed thy work, cast sloth away:
It is nut thus that souls are won.

Men die in darkness at Thy side,
Without a hope to cheer the tomb;
Take up the torch and wave it wide,
The torch that lights time’s thickest gloom.

Go on, faint not, keep watch, and pray;
Be wise the erring soul to win;
Go forth into the world’s highway,
Compel the wanderer to come in.

Toil on, and in thy toil rejoice;
For toil comes rest, for exile home:
Soon shalt thou hear the Bridegroom’s voice,
The midnight peal, “ Behold I come!”