‘Work’

How true it is when I am sad,
A little work can make me glad.
When frowning care comes to my door,
I work a while and fret no more.
I leave my couch harassed with pain,
I work, and soon I’m well again.

When sorrow comes with vain regret,
I go to work and soon forget.
Work smoothes the soul when joys depart,
And often mends a broken heart.
The idle mind soon fills with murk,
So that’s why God invented WORK.

by J. W. Thompson