On homestead, garden and claim,
Preparing the earth as a seed bed,
For God's blessing of sunshine and rain.
The birds by the brookside are building
Nests for a new brood again
To nestle close to their birthplace,
In wild wood, valley and plain.
It's time to be up and doing,
In city, country and town,
With a smile on the face like a lily,
While the old earth travels around.
There's no, use in fretting or letting
Discouragement into our fold.
If we stand firm the smoke will soon vanish
And clarify each heart and hearthstone.
We must not hope to be mowers
And gather the ripe golden sheaves
Unless we first have been sowers
And watered the flowers with tears.
My brother, it's just as we take it,
This wonderful world of ours
Life's field will yield as we make it
A haven of thorns or of flowers.
The Plains Poems in Kansas