GO WORK TO-DAY IN MY VINEYARD,
Go, waiting one, and toil.
The harvest-field is ready now, and ripe.
Go, gather in the sheaves from yonder soil,
And come with new delight. Go thou, and labor hard;
Wield well the weapons on the field of life.
The foe is ever ready to retard
When hottest is the strife. Work thou, with skillful hand.
The tempter's artful power is hard to foil;
His votaries are found in every land:
Thou shouldst not cease to toil. Work thou with earnest mind.
How many wayward souls there are to win!
Oh! bring them to the cross, where they may find
Forgiveness of their sin. Pause not to heave a sigh;
Rest not, though tired beneath the heavy load.
If thou wouldst reap, faint not 'mid deserts dry,
Or on the rugged road. The crown that waits thee now,
May far more bright and beautiful be made;
When Jesus' hand shall place it on thy brow,
All toil shall be repaid. —Drops of Water from Many Fountains.