Weekin,weekout,frommorntillnight,
Youcanhearhisbellowsblow;
Youcanhearhimswinghisheavysledge
Withmeasuredbeatandslow,
Likeasextonringingthevillagebell,
Whentheeveningsunislow.

Andchildrencominghomefromschool
Lookinattheopendoor;
Theylovetoseetheflamingforge,
Andhearthebellowsroar,
Andwatchtheburningsparksthatfly
Likechafffromathreshing-floor.

HegoesonSundaytothechurch,
Andsitsamonghisboys;
Hehearstheparsonprayandpreach,
Hehearshisdaughter’svoice,
Singinginthevillagechoir,
Anditmakeshisheartrejoice.

Itsoundstohimlikehermother’svoice,
SinginginParadise!
Heneedsmustthinkofheroncemore,
Howinthegraveshelies;
Andwithhishard,roughhandhewipes
Atearoutofhiseyes.

Toiling,—rejoicing,—sorrowing,
Onwardthroughlifehegoes;
Eachmorningseessometaskbegin,
Eacheveningseesitclose;
Somethingattempted,somethingdone,
Hasearnedanight’srepose.

Thanks,thankstothee,myworthyfriend,
Forthelessonthouhasttaught!
Thusattheflamingforgeoflife
Ourfortunesmustbewrought;
Thusonitssoundinganvilshaped
Eachburningdeedandthought!

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