Not All The Labour Of The Earth

To Appreciate Heaven Well, It's Good For A Person To Have Some Fifteen Minutes Of Hell.

Yellow, Mellow, Ripened Days, Sheltered In A Golden Coating; O'er The Dreamy, Listless Haze, White And Dainty Cloudlets Floating; Winking At The Blushing Trees, And The Sombre, Furrowed Fallow; Smiling At The Airy Ease, Of The Southward Flying Swallow Sweet And Smiling Are Thy Ways, Beauteous, Golden Autumn Days.

I've Watched My Duty, Straight An' True, An' Tried To Do It Well; Part Of The Time Kept Heaven In View, An' Part Steered Clear Of Hell.

Cover Them Over With Beautiful Flowers, Deck Them With Garlands, Those Brothers Of Ours, Lying So Silent By Night And By Day.

But I Have Learned A Thing Or Two; I Know As Sure As Fate, When We Lock Up Our Lives For Wealth, The Gold Key Comes Too Late.