Labor is rest

Labor is rest from the sorrows that greet us;
Rest from all petty vexations that meet us,
Rest from sin-promptings that ever entreat us,
Rest from world-sirens that hire us to ill.
Work -- and pure slumbers shall wait on thy pillow;
Work -- thou shalt ride over Care's coming billow;
Lie not down wearied, 'neath Woe's weeping willow!
Work with a stout heart and resolute will!
/-- Frances S. Osgood./