Lyrics
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Christ has done the mighty work;
Nothing left for us to do
But to enter on His toil,
Enter on His triumph too.
His the pardon, ours the sin,
Great the sin, the pardon great;
His the good, and ours the ill;
His the love, and ours the hate.
His the labour, ours the rest;
His the death, and ours the life;
Ours the fruits of victory,
His the agony and strife.
He has sowed the precious seed,
Nothing left for us unsown;
Ours it is to reap the field,
Make the harvest joy our own.
Nothing left for us to do
But to enter on His toil,
Enter on His triumph too.
His the pardon, ours the sin,
Great the sin, the pardon great;
His the good, and ours the ill;
His the love, and ours the hate.
His the labour, ours the rest;
His the death, and ours the life;
Ours the fruits of victory,
His the agony and strife.
He has sowed the precious seed,
Nothing left for us unsown;
Ours it is to reap the field,
Make the harvest joy our own.
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