Let
me but do my work from day to day,
In field or forest, at the desk or loom, In roaring market-place or tranquil room; Let
me but find it in my heart to say, When
vagrant wishes beckon me astray, “This is my work; my blessing, not my doom; Of all who live, I am
the one by whom This
work can best be done in the right way.” Then
shall I see it not too great, nor small, To suit my spirit and to prove my powers; Then shall I cheerful greet the laboring
hours, And
cheerful turn, when the long shadows fall At eventide, to play and love and rest, Because I know for me my work is best. |
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