All labour gained new dignity Since He who all creation made Toiled with His hands for daily bread Right manfully. No work is commonplace, if all Be done as unto Him alone; Life's simplest toil to Him is known Who knoweth all. Each smallest common thing He makes Serves Him with its minutest part; Man only with his wandering heart His way forsakes. His service is life's highest joy, It yields fair fruit a hundred fold. Be this our prayer -- "Not fame, nor gold, But -- Thine employ!" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONG TO THE MEN OF ENGLAND by THOMAS CAMPBELL AELLA: THE MINSTREL'S SONG by THOMAS CHATTERTON THE HARES; A FABLE by JAMES BEATTIE GOD'S ACRE by CHARLOTTE LOUISE BERTLESEN PSALM 101 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE VILLAGE by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN ON THE AUTHOR'S BIRTHDAY by ISAAC HAWKINS BROWNE TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 4. OUT OF THE HOUSE OF CHILDHOOD by EDWARD CARPENTER |