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."
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Anyone who can walk to the welfare office can walk to work.
Anyone who can walk to the welfare office can walk to work.
I look on that man as happy, who, when there is a question of success, looks into his work for read more
I look on that man as happy, who, when there is a question of success, looks into his work for a reply.
Hasten slowly, and without losing heart, put your work twenty
times upon the anvil.
[Fr., Hatez-vous lentement; et, read more
Hasten slowly, and without losing heart, put your work twenty
times upon the anvil.
[Fr., Hatez-vous lentement; et, sans perdre courage,
Vingt fois sur le metier remettez votre ouvrage.]
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.]
Ease and speed in doing a thing do not give the work lasting
solidity or exactness of beauty.
Ease and speed in doing a thing do not give the work lasting
solidity or exactness of beauty.
I am nothing and to nothing tend,
On earth I nothing have and nothing claim,
Man's noblest read more
I am nothing and to nothing tend,
On earth I nothing have and nothing claim,
Man's noblest works must have one common end,
And nothing crown the tablet of his name.
The harder I work, the luckier I get.
The harder I work, the luckier I get.
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.
Tools were made and born with hands,
Every farmer understands.
Tools were made and born with hands,
Every farmer understands.
