Ye bells of the kirk—
The Lord of Love came down from above
To live with the men who work.
This is the rose he planted, here
In the thorn-cursed soil;
Heaven is blest with perfect rest, but
The blessing of earth is toil.
Is not born with him. There is always work
And tools to work withal, for those who will;
And blessed are the thorny hands of toil.