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.
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When Adam dolve, and Eve span,
Who was then the gentleman?
When Adam dolve, and Eve span,
Who was then the gentleman?
He that well his warke beginneth
The rather a good ende he winneth.
He that well his warke beginneth
The rather a good ende he winneth.
How bething the, gentliman,
How Adam dalf, and Eve span.
How bething the, gentliman,
How Adam dalf, and Eve span.
The fiction pleased; our generous train complies,
Nor fraud mistrusts in virtue's fair disguise.
The work she read more
The fiction pleased; our generous train complies,
Nor fraud mistrusts in virtue's fair disguise.
The work she plyed, but, studious of delay,
Each following night reversed the toils of day.
I have had my labor for my travail; ill-thought-on of her, and
ill-thought-on of you; gone between and between, read more
I have had my labor for my travail; ill-thought-on of her, and
ill-thought-on of you; gone between and between, but small thanks
for my labor.
Tho' we earn our bread, Tom,
By the dirty pen,
What we can we will be,
read more
Tho' we earn our bread, Tom,
By the dirty pen,
What we can we will be,
Honest Englishmen.
Do the work that's nearest
Though it's dull at whiles,
Helping, when we meet them,
Lame dogs over stiles.
Work divided is in that manner shortened.
[Lat., Divisum sic breve fiet opus.]
Work divided is in that manner shortened.
[Lat., Divisum sic breve fiet opus.]
What is called a sincere work is one that is endowed with enough strength to give reality to an illusion.
What is called a sincere work is one that is endowed with enough strength to give reality to an illusion.
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."
