The best verse hasn't been rhymed yet,
The best house hasn't been planned,
The highest peak hasn't read more

The best verse hasn't been rhymed yet,
The best house hasn't been planned,
The highest peak hasn't been climbed yet,
The mightiest rivers aren't spanned;
Don't worry and fret, faint-hearted,
The chances have just begun
For the best jobs haven't been started,
The best work hasn't been done.

And only the Master shall praise us, and only the Master shall
blame;
And no one shall work read more

And only the Master shall praise us, and only the Master shall
blame;
And no one shall work for money, and no one shall work for fame;
But each for the joy of the working, and each, in his separate
star,
Shall draw the Thing as he sees It, for the God of Things as They
Are!

Everyone enjoys doing the kind of work for which he is best suited.

Everyone enjoys doing the kind of work for which he is best suited.

Let us take to our hearts a lesson--
No lesson could braver be--
From the ways of read more

Let us take to our hearts a lesson--
No lesson could braver be--
From the ways of the tapestry weavers
On the other side of the sea.

Plough deep while sluggards sleep.

Plough deep while sluggards sleep.

Unemployment, with its injustice for the man who seeks and
thirsts for employment, who begs for labour and cannot read more

Unemployment, with its injustice for the man who seeks and
thirsts for employment, who begs for labour and cannot get it,
and who is punished for failure he is not responsible for by the
starvation of his children--that torture is something that
private enterprise ought to remedy for its own sake.

God be thank'd that the dead have left still
Good undone for the living to do--
Still read more

God be thank'd that the dead have left still
Good undone for the living to do--
Still some aim for the heart and the will
And the soul of a man to pursue.

When Adam dalfe and Eve spane
So spire if thou may spede,
Where was then the pride read more

When Adam dalfe and Eve spane
So spire if thou may spede,
Where was then the pride of man,
That nowe merres his mede?

The fiction pleased; our generous train complies,
Nor fraud mistrusts in virtue's fair disguise.
The work she read more

The fiction pleased; our generous train complies,
Nor fraud mistrusts in virtue's fair disguise.
The work she plyed, but, studious of delay,
Each following night reversed the toils of day.