Classic Poem

Labour 's strong and merry children.
Comrades of the rising sun,
Let us sing some songs together,
Now our toil is done.

No desponding, no repining!
Leisure must by toil be bought.
Never yet was good accomplished,
Without hand and thought.

Even God's all holy labour
Framed the air, the stars, the sun;
Built our earth on deep foundations;
And — the World was won!