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 naught

Thine 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

The willing heart to mark and cheer:

No toil for Him shall be in vain.

Go, labor on! Your hands are weak,

Your knees are faint, your soul 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 thy work, cast sloth away;

It is not 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.

Toil 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!"