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Poem by John Webster Honourable Employment O my lord, lie not idle: The chiefest action for a man of great spirit Is never to be out of action. We should think The soul was never put into the body, Which has so many rare and curious pieces Of mathematical motion, to stand still. Virtue is ever sowing of her seeds; In the trenches for the soldier: in the wakeful study For the scholar; in the furrows of the sea For men of our profession; of all which Arise and spring up honour. John Webster John Webster's other poems: 1303 Views |
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