Quiet Work
One
lesson,
Nature,
let
me
learn
of
thee,
One
lesson
which
in
every
wind
is
blown,
One
lesson
of
two
duties
kept
at
one
Though
the
loud
world
proclaim
their
enmity—
Of
toil
unsever'd
from
tranquility!
Of
labor,
that
in
lasting
fruit
outgrows
Far
noisier
schemes,
accomplish'd
in
repose,
Too
great
for
haste,
too
high
for
rivalry.
Yes,
while
on
earth
a
thousand
discords
ring,
Man's
fitful
uproar
mingling
with
his
toil,
Still
do
thy
sleepless
ministers
move
on,
Their
glorious
tasks
in
silence
perfecting;
Still
working,
blaming
still
our
vain
turmoil,
Laborers
that
shall
not
fail,
when
man
is
gone.