LET TOIL BE PRAISED

Eternity has swallowed countless ages,

Where falsehood, sham with violence had reigned,

To wrench and hold the mace of worldly sages,

For their own pleasure keeping others chained;

Vainglory pomp and wealth basked fist, upraised,

Till darkness heard the cry: Let toil be praised!

Has history upheld that fame misguided?

Parchment scraps marked with mould and blood congealed.

But oh! The legacy of work confided:

Here, dark green meadows, yonder ripened field;

Village trees, blossom flaming, bustling town marketplace,

And buildings tall, proclaiming: Let toil be praised!

A worthy call, solemn and worth revering,

Shaking off surfdom chains of wretchedness,

Scattering golden idols, hollow, reeling,

Winning out over hate, and feigned success;

Above raised heads, new dawn’s portent, ablaze,

World unison, reborn: Let toil be praised!

Praise toil of every kind that brings well-being,

Though wielding hammer, or behind the plough,

Wading through mud and dust in strife unseeing,

Or lofty penned, uplifting care-worn brow;

Unsteered by selfish dictate, lust, greed-crazed –

Toil of pen, file and spade, alike be praised!

Times yet to come shall wipe off vacuous captions,

Which now on human flags emblazoned wave,

Peace bring to wars of values, faiths, conceptions

Hushing up racial tensions, loud and grave,

The fanfares of the powerful, weapons razed —

But times then will still resound with: Let toil be praised!

I speak to you, hands feverish with trying,

May others get the fruits your blossom brings,

Yours shall be victory, without denying,

Yours is the future, yours all worldly things.

Though for now bile and thorns obstruct your ways,

Reach out — for laurels due: Let toil be praised!