THE PLACE OF REST.
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'T is only those who sow will reap,And he who wins in the race must keep Right on,—he must not rest."
I asked a woman I saw sit down, With her baby on her breast:"'The place of rest,' did I hear you say?God knows, I have worked since dawn of day,— I never have time to rest."
I asked a man who was rich and great, As on I sadly pressed;His brow was knitted and dark with care;He said, with his hand on his snowy hair: "I never have thought of rest."
I asked a lady with golden hair, And jewels upon her breast;She raised her beautiful star-like eyesAnd said: "Oh! nowhere under the skies Can I find peace nor rest."
I asked a beggar, whose ragged shirt Scarce covered his swarthy breast;He put on his crownless hat and said:"When somebody gives me a crust of bread, I sit on this stone and rest."
