Allow me to sit but for a while longer,
Yes, to rest in this place for now,
Perhaps I’ll sleep the afternoon away,
For I have grown tired of my task.
Why labor now if the work can wait,
Or strive to finish today’s job
It I can do it on some later day—
It matters not if I do it tomorrow instead.
Help me to finish my chores today,
That’s a kind thing for you to do:
Oh, but tomorrow I will be gone,
I won’t be here to help you.
I don’t mind your working to help me,
So long as it remains only a favor,
Pleas don’t expect help from me,
For I won’t lift a finger for your sake.
All this toil and fuss is misplaced,
Trying to do a good deed for a stranger,
He’ll never repay your kindness:
Effort is wasted on those who’ll not help themselves.
And what of faith without works,
Pronounced dead by an apostle of straw?
I say it’s alive for the believing:
Why run a race which can be finished by walking?