Lord, when Thou seest that my work is done, Let me not linger on, With failing powers, Adown the weary hours, -- A workless worker in a world of work. But, with a word, Just bid me home, And I will come Right gladly, -- Yea, right gladly Will I come. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A SUPPLEMENT OF AN IMPERFECT COPY OF VERSES OF MR. WILL. SHAKESPEARE'S by JOHN SUCKLING IN PRAISE OF OLD AGE by ANAXANDRIDES PROVERBS 31:25-29. THE MOTHER OF THE HOUSE by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE A CREW POEM by EDWARD AUGUSTUS BLOUNT JR. THE LAND OF DREAMS by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT FACES IN THE NIGHT by WILLIAM A. BYRNE BEETHOVEN'S FIFTH SYMPHONY by CHRISTOPHER PEARSE CRANCH MARIE NANGLE; OR, THE SEVEN SISTERS OF NAVAN; A FRAGMENT by THOMAS OSBORNE DAVIS |