Earned with the sweat of my brows.

Earned with the sweat of my brows.

I do not like work even when someone else does it.

I do not like work even when someone else does it.

The Lord had a job for me, but I had so much to do,
I said, "You get somebody read more

The Lord had a job for me, but I had so much to do,
I said, "You get somebody else--or wait till I get through."
I don't know how the Lord came out, but He seemed to get along:
But I felt kinda sneakin' like, 'cause I know'd I done Him wrong.
One day I needed the Lord--Needed Him myself--needed Him right
away,
And He never answered me at all, but I could hear Him say
Down in my accusin' heart, "Nigger, I'se got too much to do,
You get somebody else or wait till I get through."

In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread, till thou return
unto the ground; for out of read more

In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread, till thou return
unto the ground; for out of it wast thou taken: for dust thou
art, and unto dust shalt thou return.

Get leave to work
In this world,--'tis the best you get at all.

Get leave to work
In this world,--'tis the best you get at all.

By the way,
The works of women are symbolical.
We sew, sew, prick our fingers, dull out read more

By the way,
The works of women are symbolical.
We sew, sew, prick our fingers, dull out sight,
Producing what? A pair of slippers, sir,
To put on when you're weary--or a stool
To tumble over and vex you . . . curse that stool!
Or else at best, a cushion where you lean
And sleep, and dream of something we are not,
But would be for your sake. Alas, alas!
This hurts most, this . . . that, after all, we are paid
The worth of our work, perhaps.

All work, even cotton-spinning, is noble; work is alone noble.

All work, even cotton-spinning, is noble; work is alone noble.

No man is born into the world whose work
Is not born with him: there is always work,
read more

No man is born into the world whose work
Is not born with him: there is always work,
And tools to work withal, for those who will;
And blessed are the horny hand of toil!

Tools were made and born with hands,
Every farmer understands.

Tools were made and born with hands,
Every farmer understands.