With toil, much is made
We pass, but do not see;
The carpenter’s long care
Just things, to you or me —
But over down the way,
A man works at his call,
And if it weren’t for men like him,
We’d have no things
At all
With Toil


With toil, much is made
We pass, but do not see;
The carpenter’s long care
Just things, to you or me —
But over down the way,
A man works at his call,
And if it weren’t for men like him,
We’d have no things
At all