“Go work in My vineyard,” there’s plenty to do; The harvest is great and the lab’rers 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. Refrain 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 Refrain “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. Refrain |