1 There’s an end to all toiling, some day, sweet day,
But it’s weary the waiting, weary;
There’s a harbor somewhere, it’s a peaceful bay,
Where the sails will be furled and the ship will lay
At anchor somewhere in the far away,
But it’s weary the waiting, weary.
2 There’s an end to the troubles of souls oppressed,
But it’s weary the waiting, weary;
At sometime in the future when God thinks best,
He will lay us so tenderly down to rest,
And roses will bloom where the thorns have prest,
But it’s weary the waiting, weary.
3 There’s an end to the world with its stormy frown,
But it’s weary the waiting, weary;
There’s a light in that land that no dark can drown,
And where life’s heavy burdens are all laid down, —
A crown, O thank God for each cross, a crown;
But it’s weary the waiting, weary.
Source: Triumphant Songs No.4 #31