Explore "Song of the Pen" by Andrew Barton Paterson on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
_Not for the love of women toil we, we of the craft, / Not for the people's praise; / Only because our goddess made us her own and laughed, / Claiming us all our days,
Claiming our best endeavour -- body and heart and brain / Given with no reserve -- / Niggard is she towards us, granting us little gain; / Still, we are proud to serve.
Not unto us is given choice of the tasks we try, / Gathering grain or chaff; / One of her favoured servants toils at an epic high, / One, that a child may laugh.
Yet if we serve her truly in our appointed place, / Freely she doth accord / Unto her faithful servants always this saving grace, / Work is its own reward!_