eHymns.org

E. R. Latta

Fred A. Fillmore

Unknown

This is not our time of resting,
When the seed-time speeds away,
Seeds of love and truth to scatter,
We should labor all the day;
When the bright eternal morning
On our raptured sight shall rise,
We shall rest from toil and weeping,
In the mansions of the skies.

This is not our place of resting,
Where there is so much to do,
Ere the night of death come on us,
And the world is lostto view;
When we pass the shining portals,
Never, never more to roam,
We shall cease from toil and weeping,
In our everlasting home.

If we wish to share the harvest,
When the golden sheaves are brought,
We must not be standing idle,
Spending all our time for naught;
In the service of the Master,
If we labor faithfully,
Heav'n shall be our place of resting,
And the time eternity.