1 The God of Glory walks His round,
From day to day, from year to year,
And warns us each with awful sound,
“No longer stand ye idle here!

2 “Ye whose young cheeks are rosy bright,
Whose hands are strong, whose hearts are clear,
Waste not of hope the morning light!
Ah fools! why stand ye idle here?

3 “Oh, as the griefs ye would assuage
That wait on life’s declining year,
Secure a blessing for your age.
And work your Maker’s business here!

4 “And ye, whose locks of scanty grey
Foretell your latest travail near.
How swiftly fades your worthless day!
And stand ye yet so idle here?

5 "One hour remains, there is but one!
But many a shriek and many a tear
Through endless years the guilt must moan
Of moments lost and wasted here!"

6 Oh Thou, by all Thy works adored,
To whom the sinner’s soul is dear,
Recall us to Thy vineyard, Lord!
And grant us grace to please Thee here!