Just Folks

The Truth About Envy

          I like to see the flowers grow,
          To see the pansies in a row;
          I think a well-kept garden's fine,
          And wish that such a one were mine;
          But one can't have a stock of flowers
          Unless he digs and digs for hours.

          My ground is always bleak and bare;
          The roses do not flourish there.
          And where I once sowed poppy seeds
          Is now a tangled mass of weeds.'
          I'm fond of flowers, but admit,
          For digging I don't care a bit.

          I envy men whose yards are gay,
          But never work as hard as they;
          I also envy men who own
          More wealth than I have ever known.
          I'm like a lot of men who yearn
          For joys that they refuse to earn.

          You cannot have the joys of work
          And take the comfort of a shirk.
          I find the man I envy most
          Is he who's longest at his post.
          I could have gold and roses, too,
          If I would work like those who do.