First Line: Work, for time is flying,

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,
“Labourer, well done !