San Andreas independent., 1858-05-15
L A B o R.
BY FRANK sOULE.

Desplse not labor God did not despise
The handcraft which wrought this gorgeous globe;
That crowned its glories with yon ieweed skies,
And clad the earth I'm natures queenly robe.
lie dug the first canal-the rivers bed
Built the first fountain in the gushing spring,
wove the first carpet for mans naughty tread.
The warp and woof of his first covering.
He made the picture painters initiate
The statuary's first grand model made;
Tanght human intellect to re-create,
And human ingenuity its trade.
Ere great Daguerre had harnessed up the sun,
Apprenticeship at his art to serve,
greater artist greater things had done,
The wondrous pictures of the optic nerve.
There is no deed of honest labor born,
That is not god-lke in the toiling limb,
Howeer the lazy scOff, the branless scorn;
God labored first, toll likens to Him.
Ashamed to work, mechanic with thy tools
The tree thy cut from its native sod,
And turns to useful things-go tell to fools
Was fashioned in the factory of God.
Go build your ships, go, raise your lofty dome,
Your granite temple that through time endures,
Your humble cot, or that proud pile of Rome
His arm has toiled there in advance of yours.
He made the flowers your learned florists scan,
And crystalized the atoms of each gem,
Ennobed labor in great natures plan,
And made it virtues brghtst dadem.
Whatever thing is worthy to be had,
Is worthy of the toll by which It's won
just as the grain with which the fields clad,
Pays back the warming labor Of the sun.
'Tis not profession that ennobles men,
'Tis not the calling that e'er degrade,
The pen is mightier than the hero's blade.
The merchant with his ledger and his wares
The lawyer with his cases and his books,
The toing farmer mid his wheat, or tares,
The poet by his shady streams and hooks,
The MAN. whateer his work. wherever done.
Ifintelect and honor guide Lis hand,
Is peer to him who greatest state hath won,
And rich as any Rothschild Of the land.
All mere distinctions based upon pretence,
Are merely laughing themes for many hearts.
The miners cradle. claims from men Of sense.
More honor than the youngling Bonapartes.
Let fops and fools the sons of toll deride.
On false pretensons brainless Ounces live,
Let carpet heroes strut with paror pride.
Supreme in all which Incidence can give.
But be thou not like them. and envy not
These fancy om-tit burlesques of mankind,
The wtess snobs in itlleness who rot
Hermaphrodites 'twxt vanity aud mind.
Oh son Of toll. be proud, look up, arise,
And disregard opinions hollow test,
false socety's DEGREES despise-
He is most worthy who hath labored best.
The scepter is less royal than the hoe.
The sword beneath whose rule whole nations writhe
And curse the wearer while they feel the blow
Is far less noble than the plow and scythe.
There's more true honor one tan-browDed hand,
Rough with the honest work of busy men,
Than all the soft-skinned punies of the land,
The nice whte-kidry Of supper ten"
Blow bright the forge, the sturdy anvil ring.
1t sings the anthem of King Labor's courts.
And sweeter sounds the Gathering hammers bring,
Than half thousand thumped pianafortes
Fair are the ribbons from the rabbet plane,
As those which grace my LADY, hat and cape,
Nor does the joiner's honor blush or wane.
Beside the lawyer wit his brief and tape.
Pride thee mechanic, on thy honest trade.
'Tis nobler than the snobs much vaunted pelf,
Mans soulless pride his test of worth has made,
But thine Is based on that of God himself.
-[San Francisco Globe