O Christian, toil on, work, work while ’tis day,
And soon a bright crown you will gain.
In the land of the blest the weary shall rest
From labor, temptation, and pain.
There is rest over there, blessèd rest over there,
Sweet rest on that heavenly shore;
Yes, there’s rest over there, sweet rest over there,
Where sorrow will come nevermore.
Though often your heart is sad and oppressed,
And weary of toil you may be;
O, then think of that home where grief is unknown,
That Jesus has promised to thee.
Yes, think of that home, of that happy home,
Its glories have never been told;
O, your rest will be sweet, your joy be complete,
In yonder bright city of gold.