My Master was a worker,
With daily work to do,
And he who would be like Him
Must be a worker, too.
Then welcome honest labor,
And honest labor’s fare,
For where there is a worker,
The Master’s man is there. My Master was a comrade,
A trusty friend and true,
And he who would be like Him,
Must be a comrade, too.
In happy hour of singing,
In silent hours of care,
Where goes a loyal comrade,
The Master’s man is there. My Master was a helper,
The woes of life He knew,
And he who would be like Him
Must be a helper, too.
The burden will grow lighter,
If each will take a share,
And where there is a helper,
The Master’s man is there. Then, brothers brave and manly,
Together let us be,
For He, who is our Master,
The Man of men was He.
The men who would be like Him
Are wanted everywhere,
And where they love each other
The Master’s men are there. |
