The time is short.
If thou wouldst work for God, it must be now;
If thou wouldst win the garland for thy brow,
Redeem the time.
Shake off earth’s sloth,
Go forth with staff in hand while yet ‘tis day;
Set out with girded loins upon thy way:
Up, linger not.
Fold not thy hands!
What has the pilgrim of the cross and crown
To do with luxury, or couch of down?
On, pilgrim, on!
Sheathe not the sword,
The battle lies before thee, and the prize
Hangs yonder, far above these earthly skies:
Fight the good fight.
Faint not, O thou,
Follow the Master through the noble strife,
Pursue His footsteps, till they end in life:
Be strong in Him.
With His reward
He comes, He tarries not, His day is near;
When men least look for Him, will He appear:
O, glorious day!