In the Vineyard

Verse 1

Long, O Master, in Thy vineyard, Through the dust and heat of day, I have toiled, and with my burden Come I now through shadows gray.

Chorus

Toiling in the vineyard All day long with weary feet, Glad to rest when evening cometh, And the hours are cool and sweet.

Verse 2

Tangled vines and faded flowers Hidden lie among the sheaves; Look’st Thou sorrowful, O Master? Is there nothing else but leaves?

Verse 3

Gathered I the lovely flowers, With their dewy fragrance sweet, Hoping that amid their beauty Thou might’st find some grains of wheat.

Verse 4

Purge, Thou, then, the sheaves so worthless, That I lay at Thy dear feet, So they yield Thee at the harvest Only finest of the wheat.