Our Master toiled, a carpenter Of busy Galilee; He knew the weight of ardent tasks And ofttimes, wearily, He sought, apart, in earnest prayer For strength, beneath his load of care. He took a manly share of work, No thoughtless shirker he. From dawn to dusk, before his bench, He labored faithfully. He felt just pride in work well done And found rest sweet, at setting sun. His Father worked, and he rejoiced That honest toil was his— To whom was given grace to know Divinest mysteries: And shall not we find toiling good Who serve in labor's brotherhood? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AN ALPINE PICTURE by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH PARTING AT MORNING by ROBERT BROWNING THE WELCOME by THOMAS OSBORNE DAVIS THE CONFLICT by CECIL DAY LEWIS WOODNOTES: 2 by RALPH WALDO EMERSON TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN: THE FIRST DAY: THE LEGEND OF RABBI BEN LEVY by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW |