The Problem
I.
NOT without envy Wealth at times must look
On their brown strength who wield the reaping-hook.'
And scythe, or at the forge-fire shape the plough
Or the steel harness of the steeds of steam;
All who, by skill and patience, anyhow
Make service noble, and the earth redeem
From savageness. By kingly accolade
Than theirs was never worthier knighthood made.
Well for them, if, while demagogues their vain
And evil counsels proffer, they maintain
Their honest manhood unseduced, and wage
No war with Labor's right to Labor's gain
Of sweet home-comfort, rest of hand and brain,
And softer pillow for the head of Age.
II.
And well for Gain if it ungrudging yields
Labor its just demand; and well for Ease
If in the uses of its own, it sees
No wrong to him who tills its pleasant fields
And spreads the table of its luxuries.
The interests of the rich man and the poor
Are one and same, inseparable evermore;
And, when scant wage or labor fail to give
Food, shelter, raiment, wherewithal to live,
Need has its rights, necessity its claim.
Yea, even self-wrought misery and shame
Test well the charity suffering long and kind.
The home-pressed question of the age can find
No answer in the catch-words of the blind
Leaders of blind. Solution there is none
Save in the Golden Rule of Christ alone.
poem by John Greenleaf Whittier

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The tendency of taxation is to create a class of persons who do not labor, to take from those who do labor the produce of that labor, and to give it to those who do not labor.
quote by William Cobbett

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Lay of the Laborer
A spade! a rake! a hoe!
A pickaxe, or a bill!
A hook to reap, or a scythe to mow,
A flail, or what ye will—
And here's a ready hand
To ply the needful tool,
And skill'd enough, by lessons rough,
In Labor's rugged school.
To hedge, or dig the ditch,
To lop or fell the tree,
To lay the swarth on the sultry field,
Or plough the stubborn lea;
The harvest stack to bind,
The wheaten rick to thatch,
And never fear in my pouch to find
The tinder or the match.
To a flaming barn or farm
My fancies never roam;
The fire I yearn to kindle and burn
Is on the hearth of Home;
Where children huddle and crouch
Through dark long winter days,
Where starving children huddle and crouch,
To see the cheerful rays,
A-glowing on the haggard cheek,
And not in the haggard's blaze!
To Him who sends a drought
To parch the fields forlorn,
The rain to flood the meadows with mud,
The blight to blast the corn,
To Him I leave to guide
The bolt in its crooked path,
To strike the miser's rick, and show
The skies blood-red with wrath.
A spade! a rake! a hoe!
A pickaxe, or a bill!
A hook to reap, or a scythe to mow,
A flail, or what ye will—
The corn to thrash, or the hedge to plash,
The market-team to drive,
Or mend the fence by the cover side,
And leave the game alive.
Ay, only give me work,
And then you need not fear
That I shall snare his Worship's hare,
Or kill his Grace's deer;
Break into his lordship's house,
To steal the plate so rich;
Or leave the yeoman that had a purse
To welter in a ditch.
Wherever Nature needs,
Wherever Labor calls,
No job I'll shirk of the hardest work,
To shun the workhouse walls;
Where savage laws begrudge
The pauper babe its breath,
And doom a wife to a widow's life,
Before her partner's death.
My only claim is this,
With labor stiff and stark,
By lawful turn, my living to earn,
Between the light and dark;
My daily bread, and nightly bed,
My bacon, and drop of beer—
But all from the hand that holds the land,
And none from the overseer!
No parish money, or loaf,
No pauper badges for me,
A son of the soil, by right of toil
Entitled to my fee.
No alms I ask, give me my task:
Here are the arm, the leg,
The strength, the sinews of a Man,
To work, and not to beg.
Still one of Adam's heirs,
Though doom'd by chance of birth
To dress so mean, and to eat the lean
Instead of the fat of the earth;
To make such humble meals
As honest labor can,
A bone and a crust, with a grace to God,
And little thanks to man!
A spade! a rake! a hoe!
A pickaxe, or a bill!
A hook to reap, or a scythe to mow,
A flail, or what ye will—
Whatever the tool to ply,
Here is a willing drudge,
With muscle and limb, and woe to him
Who does their pay begrudge!
Who every weekly score
Docks labor's little mite,
Bestows on the poor at the temple door,
But robb'd them over night.
The very shilling he hoped to save,
As health and morals fail,
Shall visit me in the new Bastille,
The Spital, or the Gaol!
poem by Thomas Hood

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What Are You Laboring For?
What do you labor for my friend; what is your purpose in the end?
Do you labor for a present need, or do you just work to succeed?
Do you punch in a clock for men, to then work eight hours or ten?
Do you put forth effort each day, in a place that you’ll never stay?
These can be asked by all of us, until these bodies return to dust.
But what about time men spend, towards an eternity with no end?
Maybe many aren’t mindful of, the priorities from The Lord above,
Priorities God has for you and me, which extend well into eternity.
When men stand before The Lord, what about all the labor before,
Done while on this earthly sphere, all labored for what down here?
When this life upon earth is past, what in eternity for you will last?
Will all of the effort made by us, simply be blown away like dust?
All of this life is futile, my friend, when your life comes to an end,
Except all of the labor done, for Jesus Christ, God’s Eternal Son.
Wages we don’t get from The Lord, but, from Him, eternal reward,
It’s not only lasting, but its worth, far exceeds the wages on earth.
So why continue to labor in vain, when you can have eternal gain?
Acknowledge God in all you do, and watch what God does in you,
As He stores you treasure above, He fills you with desire and love,
To serve His Son unceasingly, as He prepares us for life eternally.
Capital is a result of labor, and is used by labor to assist it in further production. Labor is the active and initial force, and labor is therefore the employer of capital.
quote by Henry George

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Labor is work that leaves no trace behind it when it is finished, or if it does, as in the case of the tilled field, this product of human activity requires still more labor, incessant, tireless labor, to maintain its identity as a ""work"" of man.
quote by Mary McCarthy

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The circulating medium being issued only by those who labor, they would suddenly become invested with all the wealth and all the power; and those who did not labor, be they ever so rich now, would as suddenly become poor and powerless.
quote by Josiah Warren

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Sonnet: The Righteous Succeed Anyday
An honest man gets into trouble soon;
Hard labor makes a man weary with ease;
Yet, Honesty will always be a boon,
Though troubles keep coming and may not cease.
In world so bad, virtues are hard to keep,
While vices catch all persons with great ease;
Nevertheless, there is nothing to weep;
The Tempter too, its labor will not cease.
Then, how the Righteous cope on earth somehow?
'Tis God who guides and protects them from harm;
For upright men, so great is Maker's love;
His heart's a furnace of love truly warm.
The man of virtues yet sees success fast;
He needn't worry of future or the past.
poem by John Celes

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Take Time Off To Relax! !
Behind each and every human,
Who has to work dusk to dawn,
Dawn to dusk or dawn to dawn,
There are few mouths at home,
Hopefully waiting for them,
To keep the food on the table,
to provide cloth and shelter,
to educate and medicate,
to love, care and cherish,
Most labor goes for love,
Love that we have,
Upon our loved ones,
our friends, society,
and our dear nation,
That energizes us,
To work tirelessly.
Happy Labor's day! !
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi

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Labor is prior to, and independent of, capital. Capital is only the fruit of labor, and could never have existed if labor had not first existed. Labor is the superior of capital, and deserves much the higher consideration.
quote by Abraham Lincoln

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The product of mental labor - science - always stands far below its value, because the labor-time necessary to reproduce it has no relation at all to the labor-time required for its original production.
Those who labor with their minds rule; those who labor with their bodies are ruled.
Nothing is so envied as genius, nothing so hopeless of attainment by labor alone. Though labor always accompanies the greatest genius, without the intellectual gift labor alone will do little.
quote by B.R. Hayden

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Capital is dead labor, which, vampire-like, lives only by sucking living labor, and lives the more, the more labor it sucks.
Happy Labour's Day!
Behind the men on the street,
responsible for cleaning and hygiene,
Behind the men on the site,
who work under sun and rain,
Behind the men in the factories,
who work with machines and maladies,
Behind the men in the fields,
who sweat and dry that with dirty rugs,
Behind the men in the conditioned offices,
who have to slouch and repeat the diction,
Behind every professional and politician,
who have to do the particular work and prove,
there are few mouth at home,
earnestly waiting for them.
To keep the food on the table,
to provide cloth and shelter,
to educate and medicate,
to love, care and cherish,
Most labor goes for love,
Love that we have,
Upon our loved ones,
our friends, society,
and our dear nation,
That energizes us,
To work tirelessly.
Behind the millions of housewives,
who work all day and night for the whole year,
there stand a family,
to prove that the toil of these women,
not wasted and the labor of these women,
connect the hearts through the stomach and mind.
Everyone of us is a laborer,
who have to serve the Gods,
who, are the laborers themselves,
for they create, protect and save us,
throughout the year without any rest.
Happy Laborer's day!
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi

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Love's Labor Lost
It’s been a long, lonesome struggle…
towards the end of life
I find myself in circles
as if - love’s labor lost
You keep coming and going away
in myriad dreams and dithering thoughts
agonizing tears wet my soul…
how could I’ve loved you so much!
Those sparkling eyes
that voice of yours
have never let me down
in fantasies, when reality speaks…
dreams are all over
as if: love’s labor lost
You were never there for me
how could you, when you were hers
you loved her, she loved you back
what a sweet story…
for you, it may be
for me, love’s labor lost
Falling in love was easy
consequences unthought of…
your mesmerizing aura
made me forget how reality bites –
and it does bite hard!
Just as death draws nearer
my destiny’s games are over
It made a fool of me
gave me all but you...
My thirst for your love remains
an unfulfilled wish, a dying desire
perishing off with this body...
Yes – it truly is love’s labor lost!
poem by Aparna Chatterjee

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Agricultural, Implements and Machinery
Poor laborers, they did sad bewail,
When the machine displaced the flail ;
Theres little work, now, with the hoes,
Since cultivators weed the rows.
Labor it became more fickle
When the scythe took place of sickle ;
Labor still it did sink lower
By introduction of mower ;
And the work was done much cheaper
When they added on the reaper.
Another machine to it they join,
Mower, reaper, binder, they combine.
Machines now load and stow away
Both the barley and the hay,
And the farmers do get richer
With the loader and the pitcher.
Theres little work now for the hoes,
Since cultivators weed the rows ;
They sow and rake by the machine-
Hand labor's 'mong the things have been.
Armed with scythes, the old war chariot
Cut down men in the fierce war riot ;
Round farmer's chariot falls the slain,
But 'tis the sheaves of golden grain.
This harvest, now, of eighty-four,
Will great wealth on farmers pour,
For there is abundant yield
Of fruitful crops in every field.
poem by James McIntyre

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The labor of keeping house is labor in its most naked state, for labor is toil that never finishes, toil that has to be begun again the moment it is completed, toil that is destroyed and consumed by the life process.
quote by Mary McCarthy

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The land that shall be (dedicated to herman anker and m. anker on the
Ocaasion of their silver-wedding, September 15, 1888)
Land that shall be
Thither, when thwarted our longings, we sail,-
Sighs to the clouds, that we breathe when we fail,
Form a mirage of rich valley and mead
Over our need,-
Visions revealing the future until
Faith shall fulfil,-
The land that shall be.
Land that shall be!
All of our labor to sow seeds of gain
Grows in the ages when
our
names shall wane,
Gathered with others', 't is stored in the true
Will to renew.
This then shall carry our labor within,
Safely within
The land that shall be.
Land that shall be!
Tears that are shed over evil's foul blight,
Blood-sweat in conflict to win higher right,
Hallow the will unto victory's cost.
Let us be lost,
Rooting out wrong, that the good we may sow,
Soon overgrow
The land that shall be.
Land that shall be!
Looming in beauty of colors and song,
Golden in sunlight that glad makes and strong,
Present in children's eyes, looking to-day
Down when you pray.
Winning good victories gives us the power
To own a brief hour
The land that shall be.
poem by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson

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Idleness is a constant sin, and labor is a duty. Idleness is the devil's home for temptation and for unprofitable, distracting musings; while labor profit others and ourselves.
quote by Anne Baxter

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Labor disgraces no man; unfortunately, you occasionally find men who disgrace labor.
quote by Ulysses S. Grant

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