How sweet to know when we grow weary
That after toiling cometh rest;
How bright it makes our moments dreary,
When after toiling cometh rest.

The heart bow'd down in care and sadness,
So labor-worn and grief-oppressed,
Rejoices in those words of gladness, 
That after toiling cometh rest.

Oh why should we grow weary-hearted,
When after toiling cometh rest?
The golden strands of life are parted,
And after toiling cometh rest.

Beyond the shadows lies the shining 
of golden sunshine, fairest best,
As darkest clouds have brightest lining,
So after toiling cometh rest,

Then onward press, and falter never,
For after toiling cometh rest! 
Be earnest in your each endeavor,
For after toiling cometh rest.

For you shall sleep to know no sorrow,
And waken in that realm the blest,
Where never comes a sad tomorrow,
Where after toiling cometh rest.