But more than that, no matter where
We're laboring in wood and field,
We turn and see it in the air,
Our promise of a greater yield.
It whispers to us all day long
From dawn to dusk: "Be true, be strong;
Who falters now with plough or hoe
Gives comfort to his country's foe."
It seems to me I've never tried
To do so much about the place,