Why, universal plodding poisons up
The nimble spirits in the arteries,
As motion and long-during action tires
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Why, universal plodding poisons up
The nimble spirits in the arteries,
As motion and long-during action tires
The sinewy vigor of the traveller.

My work is a game, a very serious game.

My work is a game, a very serious game.

Work is a necessity for man. Man invented the alarm clock.

Work is a necessity for man. Man invented the alarm clock.

The gull shall whistle in his wake, the blind wave break in fire.
He shall fulfill God's utmost will, read more

The gull shall whistle in his wake, the blind wave break in fire.
He shall fulfill God's utmost will, unknowing His desire,
And he shall see old planets pass and alien stars arise,
And give the gale his reckless sail in shadow of new skies.
Strong lust of gear shall drive him out and hunger arm his hand,
To wring his food from a desert nude, his foothold from the sand.

Why do strong arms fatigue themselves with frivolous dumb-bells?
To dig a vineyard is a worthier exercise for men.

Why do strong arms fatigue themselves with frivolous dumb-bells?
To dig a vineyard is a worthier exercise for men.

What work's, my countrymen, in hand? Where go you
With bats and clubs? The matter? Speak, I pray you.

What work's, my countrymen, in hand? Where go you
With bats and clubs? The matter? Speak, I pray you.

The fruit derived from labor is the sweetest of pleasures.
[Fr., Le fruit du travail est le plus doux read more

The fruit derived from labor is the sweetest of pleasures.
[Fr., Le fruit du travail est le plus doux des plaisirs.]

There is joy in work. There is no happiness except in the realization that we have accomplished something.

There is joy in work. There is no happiness except in the realization that we have accomplished something.

All Nature seems at work, slugs leave their lair--
The bees are stirring--birds are on the wing--
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All Nature seems at work, slugs leave their lair--
The bees are stirring--birds are on the wing--
And Winter, slumbering in the open air,
Wears on his smiling face a dream of Spring!
And I the while, the sole unbusy thing,
Nor honey make, nor pair, nor build, nor sing.