1 Rest, my soul, the work is done,
Done by God's almighty Son;
This to faith is now so clear,
There's no place for torturing fear.

2 Not through works of weary toil,
Comes the sunshine of God's smile:
Won by Christ, if found in Him,
Brightly falls the glorious beam.

3 With belief in Jesus blest,
We are ent'ring into rest;
He who full savlation brought,
In us all our works hath wrought,

4 Come, my soul, take up the cross,
Count the gain, despise the loss;
Labor for and with the Lord
Brings exceeding great reward.

5 Free from ev'ry fear of wrath,
Choose the laborer's happy path,
Tread the way which Christ hath trod,
Till the Sabbath of Thy God.