In the Vineyard of Our Father

In the vine­yard of our Fa­ther

Daily work we find to do;

Scattered fruit our hands may ga­ther

Though we are but weak and few;

Little clus­ters

Help to fill the bas­ket

too.

Toiling ear­ly in the morn­ing

Catching mo­ments through the day

Nothing small or low­ly scorn­ing

So we work

and watch

and pray;

Gathering glad­ly

Free will of­fer­ings by the way.

Not for self­ish praise or glo­ry

Not for ob­jects no­thing worth

But to send the bless­èd sto­ry

Of the Gos­pel o’er the earth

Telling mor­tals

Of our Lord and Sav­ior’s birth.

Up and ever at our call­ing

Till in death our lips are dumb

Or till

sin’s do­min­ion fall­ing

Christ shall in His king­dom come

And His child­ren

Reach their ev­er­last­ing home.

Steadfast

then

in our en­dea­vor

Heavenly Fa­ther

may we be;

And for­ev­er

and for­ev­er

We will give the praise to Thee;

Alleluia!

Singing

all eternity.