Go, Labour 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, Labour On; ‘This Not For Nought,
Thy Earthly Loss Is Heavenly Gain;
Men Heed Thee, Love Thee, Praise Thee Not,
The Master Praises, What Are Men?
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.
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!’
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