Finish Thy Work
No other hand thy special task can do,
Though trivial it may seem to thee.
Thou canst not shirk
God-given work
And still be blest of Heaven, from sin be free.
O idler in life’s ripened harvest-field,
Perform thy task, that rich thy work may yield!
Ah, sweet the thought that comes at set of sun,
If finished is the work of that one day.
But, oh, the joy
Without alloy,
Awaiting him who at life’s close can say,
“I’m ready, Father, to go home to Thee;
The work is finished which Thou gavest me.”