The labourer’s work is done,
His toil of love is o’er,
His ready pen laid down,—
He needs it now no more.
He laboured in the field
Of God’s eternal truth,
He toiled in sowing seed
Beside old age and youth.
His ready pen made haste
To scatter far and wide
Rich precious grains of truth
Through town and countryside.
Faithful from first to last
In all he had to do,
Faithful to God and man,
Steadfast and kind and true.
God’s eye the harvest sees,
His Word returns not vain;
The seed may long be hid,
But it shall spring again.
And those who sowed in tears
Shall reap the golden grain,
With joy shall gather sheaves,
With joy return again.
Jesus, his Lord, did say,
“Father, I will that he
Be with me where I am,
My glory share and see.”
Sudden the summons came,
O’er Jordan’s flood he passed;
Loosed was the silver cord,
The haven reached at last.
Then face to face he beheld
The glory of the Lord,
Changed to His image there
Whom here, unseen, he adored.
Sweet was his song on earth,
Sweeter forever now;
The victor’s palm in his hand,
The fadeless crown on his brow.
Unto the Lamb who loved
And washed us from our sin
In His most precious blood,
To Him be glory given.
To Him who, for our God,
As priests and kings us raised,
To Him let songs be sung,
His grace forever praised.
Glory, dominion, forever,
Amen, so let it be;
Naught from His love can sever,
The love of the One-in-Three.
At home now with the Lord,
From sin and sorrow free,
Servants as sons shall reign
With Christ through eternity.
May we have grace to follow
To know the Lord of love,
Tracing the steps of those
Who entered the rest above.
Fighting the fight of faith,
Hating nothing but sin,
Loving the law of the Lord,
Having it written within.
The path of the just by faith
Is like the sun’s bright ray,
That shineth more and more,
Unto the perfect day.
Farewell, beloved pastor;
Farewell, kind, faithful friend;
Farewell, till dawns that morn
Of the day that knows no end.—A. B.