1 Labor’s strong and merry children
Comrades of the rising sun;
Let us sing some songs together,
Now our toil is done.

2 No desponding, no repining,
Leisure must by toil be sought;
Never yet was good accomplished
Without toil or thought.

3 Even God’s all holy labor
Framed the sky, the stars, the sun,
Built our earth on deep foundations,
And the world was won.