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. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...COUNTRY SUMMER by LEONIE ADAMS NAPEOLON'S FAREWELL; FROM THE FRENCH by GEORGE GORDON BYRON THE DREAM by GEORGE GORDON BYRON ARMS AND THE BOY by WILFRED OWEN THE TEARES OF THE MUSES by EDMUND SPENSER THE CRICKET by FREDERICK GODDARD TUCKERMAN THE HUSBAND'S PETITION by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN |