So, no matter how it ended!
Whether your men lost or mine.
We can shake hands all together
O'er this recompense divine;
For we have a joy that pleases,—
That exalts our blessed wits;
And we know when all is over
That the campaign liar quits!
Thank the Lord for Work.
Never pray for idle hours,—
Never try to shrink;
But with all your honest powers
Thank the Lord for work!
Labor brings the pleasures high
And the joys that thrive,—
Where men laugh and where men cry,
Dearest thing alive!
Thank the Lord for strength to toil,—
Thank him day by day,—
Son of sky or son of soil
On life's vagrant way.
With a soul that fearless grows
And a good arm strong,
Joyously the glad heart goes
Up the world of song!
There was a young lady from Beaver
Who feared that her fellow would leave her;
So she popped to her beau;
But he answered her "Neau"!
And she called him a heartless deceiver!