Go Work in My Vineyard

Go work in My vine­yard

There’s plen­ty to do;

The har­vest is great and the la­bor­ers are few;

There’s weed­ing and fenc­ing

and clear­ing of roots

And plow­ing

and sow­ing

and gath’ring of fruits.

There are fox­es to take

there are wolves to de­stroy

All ag­es and ranks I can fully em­ploy;

I’ve sheep to be tend­ed

and lambs to be fed;

The lost must be ga­thered

the wea­ry ones led.

Go work

go work

Go work in My vine­yard;

There’s plen­ty to do;

Go work

go work

The har­vest is great

And the la­b’rers are few.

Go work in My vine­yard; I claim thee as Mine;

With blood did I buy thee and all that is thine—

Thy time and thy tal­ents

thy lof­ti­est pow­ers

Thy warm­est af­fect­ions

thy sun­ni­est hours.

I will­ing­ly yield­ed My king­dom for thee

The song of arch­an­gels—to hang on the tree

In pain and temp­ta­tion

in ang­uish and shame

I paid thy full ran­som; My pur­chase I claim

Go work in My vine­yard; oh

work while ’tis day!

The bright hours of sun­shine are hast­en­ing away

And night’s gloomy sha­dows are ga­ther­ing fast;

The time for our la­bor will ev­er be past.

Begin in the morn­ing and toil all the day;

Thy strength I’ll sup­ply

and thy wag­es I’ll pay;

And bless­èd

thrice bless­èd

the di­li­gent few

Who fin­ish the la­bor I’ve giv’n them to do.