What are we set on earth for? Say, to toil;
    Nor seek to leave thy tending of the vines
    For all the heat o' the day, till it declines,
    And Death's mild curfew shall from work assoil.
    God did anoint thee with his odorous oil,
    To wrestle, not to reign; and He assigns
    All thy tears over, like pure crystallines,
    For younger fellow-workers of the soil
    To wear for amulets. So others shall
    Take patience, labor, to their heart and hand
    From thy hand and thy heart and thy brave cheer,
    And God's grace fructify through thee to
    The least flower with a brimming cup may stand,
    And share its dew-drop with another near.


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