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, evening 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, âLabourer, well done ! "