Labor On

by E. D. Mundt

Labor on!
With swift winged feet the moments fly,
With Labor crowned let them pass by,
Increasing treasures laid up on high,
Go labor on!

Labor on!
Thy work in vain may seem to be,
And yet the fruitage thou shalt see,
If not in time, in eternity:
Go labor on!

Labor on!
The field so great, all white appears;
No time hast thou for idle fears;
Go reap the harvest, 'twas in tears;
Go labor on!

Chorus

Labor on! labor on!
Till at eve the setting sun whall proclaim thy labor done;
And the prize at length be won,
We shall shout our welcome-come home,
At the close of day.