Poems, on sacred and other subjects and songs, humorous and sentimental: By the late William Watt. Third edition of the songs only--with additional songs |
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 | Poems, on sacred and other subjects |  |
XVII.
Oh, Industry! great source of wealth,
I praise thy potent power;
Thou string'st the nerves to truest health,
And dost fell want devour.
I praise thy potent power;
Thou string'st the nerves to truest health,
And dost fell want devour.
Although thou didst originate
From Eden's fatal curse,
Thou canst discard infringing hate,
If raised by empty purse.
From Eden's fatal curse,
Thou canst discard infringing hate,
If raised by empty purse.
I see thee early on the lawn,
When all in sleep are still;
Thou meet'st the sun, at first of dawn,
With pleasure and good will.
When all in sleep are still;
Thou meet'st the sun, at first of dawn,
With pleasure and good will.
By thee all earthly good we have
Which lies in labour's power,
And by thy toil-worn hand receive
Earth's unprolific dower.
Which lies in labour's power,
And by thy toil-worn hand receive
Earth's unprolific dower.
The slothful sluggard I decry,
And sloven, vilely clad;
Gay diligence I fondly eye;
At cleanliness I'm glad.
And sloven, vilely clad;
Gay diligence I fondly eye;
At cleanliness I'm glad.
67
The fickle dreamer never can
Succeed in legal gain;
He ever shifting is his plan
At each imagined pain.
Succeed in legal gain;
He ever shifting is his plan
At each imagined pain.
A mopus once young Mopus was,
But is no mopus now;
He's guided by discretion's laws,
And honour decks his brow.
But is no mopus now;
He's guided by discretion's laws,
And honour decks his brow.
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