Come, labor on.
Who
dares stand idle on the harvest plain
While
all around him waves the golden grain?
And
to each servant does the Master say,
“Go
work today”
2
Come,
labor on.
Claim
the high calling angels cannot share;
To
young and old the gospel gladness bear;
Redeem
the time; its hours too swiftly fly.
The
night draws nigh.
3
Come,
labor on.
No
time for rest, till glows the western sky,
Till
the long shadows o’er our pathway lie,
And
a glad sound comes with the setting sun,
“Well
done, well done!”