1 Work, for time is flying,
Work with hearts sincere;
Work, for souls are dying,
Work, for night is near;
In the Master’s vineyard;
Go and work to-day;
Be no useless sluggard
Standing in the way.
2 In this glorious calling,
Work till day is o’er;
Work till, ev’ning falling,
You can work no more;
Then your labour bringing
To the King of kings,
Borne, with joy and singing,
Home on angels’ wings.
3 There, where saints adore Him,
Where the ransomed meet,
Joy they show before Him,
Bowing at His feet;
Hear the Master saying,
From His heavenly throne,
When thy toil rewarding,
“Laborer, well done!”
Source: Gospel Hymns No. 6 #122