Go, labor on; spend, and be spent;

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 nought; Thy earthly loss is heav'nly gain; Men heed thee, love thee, praise thee not; The Master praises, what are men?

Go, labor on: your hands are weak, Your knees are faint, your souls cast down; Yet falter not; the prize you seek Is near, a kingdom and a crown.

Go, labor on while it is day, The world's dark night is hastening on; Speed, speed the work, cast sloth away, It is not thus that souls are won.

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

Press 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.

Press on, and in thy work rejoice; For work comes rest, the prize thus won; Soon shalt thou hear the Master's voice, The midnight cry, Behold, I come!