After our labor is finished,After the struggle is done,A restful surcease awaits usAt the setting of life's sun.If when our toil seemed the sorestThe heart refused to retreatFrom a grand and noble purpose,Till the vic'try was complete,Then shall joyous crown await us,Resplendent with jewels rare,And a radiance of honorThe face shall benignly wear;Not that our works were all faultlessAnd free from error and wrong,But because our sincere purposeMade us brave and true and strong.Results of labor thus rendered,Are safely trusted to Heaven,For He who knows ev'ry motive,Understandswhywe have striven.If to man were given the balanceTo adjust with equity,His weakness and imperfection,His greed and his jealousy,Might sway the poise from adjustment,And his judgment go astray,Through the frailties of his nature—Imperfect humanityThe Infallible in knowledge,Whose true balance never swerves,Knows every man's Gethsemane,And the merit he deserves.He will not ask figs of the thorns;Of talents will not demandA greater increase than is justFrom a faithful steward's hand.Feeling the weight of the missionIncumbent upon our care;Searching the heart's deep recessesThat vice may not shelter there;Working courageously onwardThe truth and right to defend;And asking a perfect guidance,We calmly welcome the end.
After our labor is finished,After the struggle is done,A restful surcease awaits usAt the setting of life's sun.If when our toil seemed the sorestThe heart refused to retreatFrom a grand and noble purpose,Till the vic'try was complete,Then shall joyous crown await us,Resplendent with jewels rare,And a radiance of honorThe face shall benignly wear;Not that our works were all faultlessAnd free from error and wrong,But because our sincere purposeMade us brave and true and strong.
Results of labor thus rendered,Are safely trusted to Heaven,For He who knows ev'ry motive,Understandswhywe have striven.If to man were given the balanceTo adjust with equity,His weakness and imperfection,His greed and his jealousy,Might sway the poise from adjustment,And his judgment go astray,Through the frailties of his nature—Imperfect humanity
The Infallible in knowledge,Whose true balance never swerves,Knows every man's Gethsemane,And the merit he deserves.He will not ask figs of the thorns;Of talents will not demandA greater increase than is justFrom a faithful steward's hand.Feeling the weight of the missionIncumbent upon our care;Searching the heart's deep recessesThat vice may not shelter there;Working courageously onwardThe truth and right to defend;And asking a perfect guidance,We calmly welcome the end.