THE LONG LINE.
hce your own row, it the only row for you, From first Hush of morn till evening’s dew, There’s never another your work can do On that one line. Murmur not, sigh not, long not for rest, That is the way to be happy and blest; He does well, brother, who does just his best On the long line. What! would you till in the green gardens near, Old rows, fenced snugly so soft and so clear? Nay! up and at it! thou faint pioneer. On the long line. Sing while you labour, though weary the day, Life is a song, though the* skies may be grey, Listening sad hearts shali be (heered on the way Of that long line. Never a rest when the work is begun. Never a prize till the goal has been won. Then God shall whisper, “Thou servant, well done, 0 Seeing that line.
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/periodicals/WHIRIB19170518.2.33
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White Ribbon, Volume 22, Issue 263, 18 May 1917, Page 11
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152THE LONG LINE. White Ribbon, Volume 22, Issue 263, 18 May 1917, Page 11
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