Classic Poem

Yet often I think the king of that country,
comes out from His tireless host,
And walks in this world of the weary
as if He loved it the most;
For here in the dusty confusion,
with eyes that are heavy and dim,
He meets again the laboring men
who are looking and longing for Him.

He cancels the curse of Eden,
and brings them a blessing instead:
Blessed are they that labor,
for Jesus partakes of their bread,
He puts His hand to their burdens,
He enters their homes at night:
Who does his best shall have as his guest
the Master of life and light.

And courage will come with His presence,
and patience return at His touch,
And manifold sins be forgiven
to those who love Him much;
And the cries of envy and anger
will change to the songs of cheer,
For the toiling age will forget its rage
when the Prince of Peace draws near.

This is the gospel of labor,
ring it, ye bells of the kirk!
The Lord of Love comes down from above
to live with the men who work.
This is the rose that He planted,
here in the thorn-cursed soil:
Heaven is blessed with perfect rest,
but the blessing of earth is toil.