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
the midnight peal, ‘Behold, I come!’