Work

The days tarry under Apollo's flare
Our labor drips from our brow
And as we toil
Through our soil
Our harvest does most to abound

So sweet wife let not your heart fade
For our work is never done in vain
It will bring food
A cheery mood
And God's blessing to our family name

Now take this my dear and remember
My giving hands hard to the mill
Although tough
They bring love
And my lifting affection ever still