One lesson, Nature, let me learn of thee,
One lesson which in every wind is blown,
One lesson to two duties kept at one
Though the loud world proclaim their enmity.
Of toil unsevered from tanquility,
Of labour, that is lasting fruit outgrows
Far noiser schemes, accomplish’d in repose,
Too great for haste, to high for rivalry.
Yes, while on earth a thousand discords ring,
Man’s senseless uproar mingling with his toil,
Still do thy quiet ministers move on,
Their glorious tasks in silence perfecting;
Still working, blaming still our vain turmoil,
Labourers that shall not fail, when man is gone.
— Matthew Arnold