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 hands of toil.

James Russell Lowell (1819-1891): A Glance behind the Curtain.

In books, or work, or healthful play.

Isaac Watts (1674-1748): Divine Songs. Song xx.

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 hands of toil.

James Russell Lowell (1819-1891): A Glance behind the Curtain.

Destroy his fib or sophistry—in vain!

The creature's at his dirty work again.

Alexander Pope (1688-1744): Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot. Prologue to the Satires. Line 91.

Better to hunt in fields for health unbought

Than fee the doctor for a nauseous draught.

The wise for cure on exercise depend;

God never made his work for man to mend.

John Dryden (1631-1701): Epistle to John Dryden of Chesterton. Line 92.

Now, by St. Paul, the work goes bravely on.

Colley Cibber (1671-1757): Richard III. (altered). Act iii. Sc. 1.

Reading what they never wrote,

Just fifteen minutes, huddle up their work,

And with a well-bred whisper close the scene.

William Cowper (1731-1800): The Task. Book ii. The Timepiece. Line 411.

Come to the sunset tree!

The day is past and gone;

The woodman's axe lies free,

And the reaper's work is done.

John Keble (1792-1866): Tyrolese Evening Song.

Many hands make light warke.

John Heywood (Circa 1565): Proverbes. Part ii. Chap. v.

Men must work, and women must weep.

Charles Kingsley (1819-1875): The Three Fishers.

Auld Nature swears the lovely dears

Her noblest work she classes, O;

Her 'prentice han' she tried on man,

And then she made the lasses, O!

Robert Burns (1759-1796): Green grow the Rashes.

Auld Nature swears the lovely dears

Her noblest work she classes, O;

Her 'prentice han' she tried on man,

And then she made the lasses, O!

Robert Burns (1759-1796): Green grow the Rashes.

A wit's a feather, and a chief a rod;

An honest man's the noblest work of God.

Alexander Pope (1688-1744): Essay on Man. Epistle iv. Line 247.

Those who inflict must suffer, for they see

The work of their own hearts, and this must be

Our chastisement or recompense.

Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792-1822): Julian and Maddalo. Line 482.

If all the year were playing holidays,

To sport would be as tedious as to work.

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): King Henry IV. Part I. Act i. Sc. 2.

The work under our labour grows,

Luxurious by restraint.

John Milton (1608-1674): Paradise Lost. Book ix. Line 208.

Who first invented work, and bound the free

And holiday-rejoicing spirit down

   .   .   .   .   .   .

To that dry drudgery at the desk's dead wood?

   .   .   .   .   .   .

Sabbathless Satan!

Charles Lamb (1775-1834): Work.

A woman's work, grave sirs, is never done.

Poem spoken by Mr. Eusden at a Cambridge Commencement.