Lyrics:
If your hand's on the plow, hold on, hold on;
Tho' the soil may be sterile and hard,
The plowshare will make
The fallow ground break,
And the plowman will have his reward;
Earth's bosom will sparkle with emerald green,
And its grain will be gold [?] king;
The reapers will come, with loud “Harvest Home”,
And the gleaners will joyfully sing.
chorus:
Hold on, hold on, my brother, hold on,
Hold on till the prize is won;
Hold on to the plow,
And weary not now,
For the work is almost done.
If your heart's in the work, hold on, hold on;
Tho' the way should be gloomy and sad,
A light will appear,
athe pathway be clear,
And the heart of the worker be glad;
Heav'n's portals will open, and music resound,
And the mansions of bliss will ring,
With praise for the brave, who labor to save,
And the angels will joyfully sing.
