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Down and up, and up and down, Over and over and over; Turn in the little seed, dry and brown, Turn out the bright red clover. Work and the sun your work shall share, And the rain in its time shall fall; For Nature, she worketh everywhere, And the grace of God through all. With hand on the spade and heart in the sky, Dress the ground and till it; Turn in the little seed, brown and dry, Turn out the golden millet. Work and your house shall be duly fed; Work and rest shall be won; I hold that a man had better be dead Than alive, when his work is done! Down and up, and up and down, On the hilltop, low in the valley; Turn in the little seed, dry and brown, Turn out the rose and the lily. Work with a plan, or without a plan, And your ends, they shall be shaped true; Work, and learn at first hand, like a man, The best way to know is to do! Down and up till life shall close, Ceasing not your praises; Turn in the wild white winter snows, Turn out the sweet spring daisies. Work and the sun your work shall share And the rain in its time shall fall; For Nature, she worketh everywhere, And the grace of God through all. |