And work that he may eat;
Striv-ing his best, as John does now,
The broad ten-acre field to plough,
Where-in to sow the wheat.

Old John, the plough-man, ne'er re-pines,
Whe-ther it blows, or rains, or shines,
But hap-py still does seem;
And Dick, who leads the fore-most horse,
Goes whist-ling as he walks across
The field be-side the team.

Let us per-form as glad-ly, too,
The work our Mas-ter bids us do,
And then we need not fear;
But when from earth-ly toil we rest,
We all shall meet a-mong the blest
Who served Him tru-ly here.




"HOW IS THE WEA-THER?"

Cold win-ter has come,
And the cru-el winds blow--
The trees are all leaf-less and brown;
These two pret-ty rob-ins,
Oh, where shall they go
To shel-ter their lit-tle brown heads from the snow?