Poet: David J. Cable
Make hay while the sun shines,
That old maxim you'll find true,
Do not put it off to-day,
Thinking to-morrow will do.....
Read the entire poem Make Hay While The Sun Shines
Success Poem
Poet: Strickland Gillilan
What - "life is not worth fooling with?"
You're right, my lad, you're right!
Just spread that doctrine far and wide, and spread it with your might.
Life never is worth "fooling with " this is the truth you're giving.
It isn't worth the " fooling with," but it's wholly worth the living!
You say it's "not worth fooling with " the task assigned to you.
You're right again, impatient lad; the thing you say is true.
Perhaps not in the sense you mean if so, there's trouble brewing.
Your job is not worth "fooling with," but it's surely worth the doing!
"No, tasks are not worth "fooling with" 'tis not what tasks were made for.
You must not fool with them at all' that's not what you are paid for.
The best that's in you, body, soul and mind, you should be giving
To what your hands have found to do not "fooling" toiling, living!
A Life Well Lived Poem
Poet: Unknown
"I work for someone else," he said;
"I have no chance to get ahead.
At night I leave the job behind;
At morn I face the same old grind.
And everything I do by day
Just brings to me the same old pay.
While I am here I cannot see
The semblance of a chance for me."
I asked another how he viewed
The occupation he pursued.
"It's dull and dreary toil," said he,
"And brings but small reward to me.
My boss gets all the profits fine
That I believe are rightly mine.
My life's monotonously grim
Because I'm forced to work for him."
I stopped a third young man to ask
His attitude towards his task.
A cheerful smile lit up his face;
"I shan't be always in this place,"
He said, "because some distant day
A better job will come my way."
"Your boss?" I asked, and answered he:
"I'm going to make him notice me.
"He pays me wages and in turn
That money I am here to earn,
But I don't work for him alone;
Allegiance to myself I own.
I do not do my best because
It gets me favors or applause—
I work for him, but I can see
That actually I work for me."
"It looks like business good to me
The best clerk on the staff to be.
If customers approve my style
And like my manner and my smile
I help the firm to get the pelf,
But what is more I help myself.
From one big thought I'm never free:
That every day I work for me."
Oh, youth, thought I, you're bound to climb
The ladder of success in time.
Too many self-impose the cross
Of daily working for a boss,
Forgetting that in failing him
It is their own stars that they dim.
And when real service they refuse
They are the ones who really lose.
Funny Poems
Poet: Catherine Pulsifer
The puzzle of success can be confounding,
Oftentimes we feel it's luck that is abounding.
But true achievement requires lots of striving,
Patience, effort, and toil shall have us thriving.
Our progress should never rely on luck,
To succeed is a path requiring hard work.
So without fail put in those hours;
With dedication, success will be yours!
Poems About Luck
Poet: Henry VanDyke
Let me but do my work from day to day,
In field or forest, at the desk or loom,
In roaring market-place or tranquil room;
Let me but find it in my heart to say,
When vagrant wishes beckon me astray,
"This is my work; my blessing, not my doom;
"Of all who live, I am the one by whom
"This work can best be done in the right way."
Then shall I see it not too great, nor small,
To suit my spirit and to prove my powers;
Then shall I cheerful greet the labouring hours,
And cheerful turn, when the long shadows fall
At eventide, to play and love and rest,
Because I know for me my work is best.
Poems of Encouragement
Poet: Unknown
Work is what you make it - a drudgery, or a joy,
Work is the bread upon the waters,
Work is the genius of application.
Work is the cure of laziness, riches and indigestion and poverty....
Read the entire poem Work is The Ladder to Success
Poet: Angela Morgan
Work!
Thank God for the might of it,
The ardor, the urge, the delight of it--
Work that springs from the heart's desire,
Setting the brain and the soul on fire--
Oh, what is so good as the heat of it,
And what is so glad as the beat of it,
And what is so kind as the stern command,
Challenging brain and heart and hand?
Work!
Thank God for the pride of it,
For the beautiful, conquering tide of it.
Sweeping the life in its furious flood,
Thrilling the arteries, cleansing the blood,
Mastering stupor and dull despair,
Moving the dreamer to do and dare.
Oh, what is so good as the urge of it,
And what is so glad as the surge of it,
And what is so strong as the summons deep,
Rousing the torpid soul from sleep?
Work!
Thank God for the pace of it,
For the terrible, keen, swift race of it;
Fiery steeds in full control,
Nostrils a-quiver to greet the goal.
Work, the Power that drives behind,
Guiding the purposes, taming the mind,
Holding the runaway wishes back,
Reining the will to one steady track,
Speeding the energies faster, faster,
Triumphing over disaster.
Oh, what is so good as the pain of it,
And what is so great as the gain of it?
And what is so kind as the cruel goad,
Forcing us on through the rugged road?
Work!
Thank God for the swing of it,
For the clamoring, hammering ring of it,
Passion and labor daily hurled
On the mighty anvils of the world.
Oh, what is so fierce as the flame of it?
And what is so huge as the aim of it?
Thundering on through dearth and doubt,
Calling the plan of the Maker out.
Work, the Titan; Work, the friend,
Shaping the earth to a glorious end,
Draining the swamps and blasting the hills,
Doing whatever the Spirit wills--
Rending a continent apart,
To answer the dream of the Master heart.
Thank God for a world where none may shirk--
Thank God for the splendor of work!
Thank You God Poems
Poet: Helen M. Richardion
Just where you stand in the conflict,
There is your place!
Just where you think you are useless
Hide not your face!
God placed you there for a purpose,
Whate'er it be;
Think He has chosen you for it--
Work loyally.
Gird on your armor! Be faithful
At toil or rest,
Whiche'er it be, never doubting
God's way is best.
Out in the fight, or on picket,
Stand firm and true;
This is the work which your Master
Gives you to do.
Christian Poems
Poet: Goethe
Use well the moment; what the hour
Brings for thy use is in thy power;
And what thou best canst understand
Is just the thing lies nearest to thy hand.
Art thou little, do that little well
And for thy comfort know
The biggest man can do his biggest
Work no better than just so.
Like the star that shines afar,
Without haste and without rest,
Let each man wheel with steady sway
Round the task that rules the day.
And do his best.
Be The Best You Can Be
Poet: Edwin Markham
To each man is given a day and his work for the day;
And once, and no more, he is given to travel this way;
And woe if he flies from the task, whatever the odds;
For the task is appointed to him on the scroll of the gods.
There is waiting a work where only your hands can avail:
And so, if you falter, a chord in the music will fail.
We may laugh to the sky, we may lie for an hour in the sun;
But we dare not go hence till the labor appointed is done.
To each man is given a marble to carve for the wall;
A stone that is needed to heighten the beauty of all:
And only his soul has the magic to give it a grace;
And only his hands have the cunning to put it in place.
We are given one hour to parley and struggle with Fate,
Our wild hearts filled with the dream, our brains with the high debacle.
It is given to look on life once, and only once to die;
One testing, and then at a sigh we go out of the sky.
Yes, the task that is given to each man, no other can do;
So your work is awaiting; it has waited through ages for you.
Work Quotes
Poet: David V. Bush
Ah, are you happy in your work?
If not you ought to be;
The man who loves the work he does,
Works on most cheerily.
There's something in this world so fair
Some high ambitious peak
That you can reach; so co and dare,
Then plan and make the leap!
Full many one with talent great
Lies prostrate, on life’s sand;
Has met defeat and feels too weak
To do what he began.
You cannot do your level best
And reach life’s highest peak
Unless you follow up your bent -
Plan well, and make the leap.
It takes much nerve and courage too,
Your talent to augment,
But every one beneath the sun
A talent has - his bent.
Get in your line - you have a work -
Some life’s all glorious peak
That you can reach - just know thyself -
So plan and make the leap.
Plan well, of course, but do thou plan!
Of course you’ll sweat and pant;
The road of life with all its strife
Is strewn with bones, “I can’t.”
The skeletons of men who’ve quit
You’ll pass up to life’s peak,
But man! have pluck to do and dare!
Do plan, and make the leap!
The one who leaps may wonder oft,
If he did what was right;
You’ll often be far out "at sea"
But don’t give up the fight.
Your way is long, perhaps, and tough,
But climb, climb, to the peak!
Tho doubts assail, you cannot fail
Plan now and make the leap!
Motivational Poems
Poet: Charles Kingsley
Do the work that's nearest
Through it's dull at whiles.
Helping, when you meet them,
Lame dogs over stiles;
See in every hedgerow
Marks of angels feet,
Epics in each pebble
Underneath our feet.
Poems About Helping Others
Poet: Edgar A. Guest
Promotion comes to him who sticks
Unto his work and never kicks,
Who watches neither clock nor sun
To tell him when his task is done;
Who toils not by a stated chart,
Defining to a jot his part,
But gladly does a little more
Than he's remunerated for.
The man, in factory or shop,
Who rises quickly to the top,
Is he who gives what can't be bought:
Intelligent and careful thought.
No one can say just when begins
The service that promotion wins,
Or when it ends; 'tis not defined
By certain hours or any kind
Of system that has been devised;
Merit cannot be systemized.
It is at work when it's at play;
It serves each minute of the day;
'Tis always at its post, to see
New ways of help and use to be.
Merit from duty never slinks,
Its cardinal virtue is - it thinks!
Promotion comes to him who tries
Not solely for a selfish prize,
But day by day and year by year
Holds his employer's interests dear.
Who measures not by what he earns
The sum of labor he returns.
Nor counts his day of toiling through
Till he's done all that he can do.
His strength is not of muscle bred,
But of the heart and of the head.
The man who would the top attain
Must demonstrate he has a brain.
