And gird you for the toil !
The dew of promise from the skies
Already cheers the soil.
2 Go where the sick recline,
Where mourning hearts deplore ;
And where the sons of sorrow pine,
Dispense your hallowed lore.
3 Be faith, which looks above,
With prayer, your constant guest ;
And wrap the Saviour's changeless love
A mantle round your breast,
4 So shall you share the wealth
That earth may ne'er despoil ;
And the blest Gospel's saving health
Repay your arduous toil.