Rest is not quitting

Work, and thou wilt bless the day Ere the toil be done; They that work not, can not pray, Can not feel the sun. God is living, working still, All things work and move;

'T is the brook's motion, Clear without strife, Fleeing to ocean After its life.

Is not true leisure One with true toil?

'T is loving and serving The Highest and Best! 'T is onwards! unswerving, And that is true rest.

There is no reason why a woman should not receive the same pay for the same work as a man. To argue otherwise is to argue against justice.

How still the morning of the hallow'd day! Mute is the voice of rural labour, hush'd The ploughboy's whistle, and the milkmaid's song.