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                              The Preacher.                                                                                         The Worker

I mean to be a preacher, when I become a man; Let others tell of preaching; It is a holy purpose - it is a noble plan, The honors it will bring; For this I'll read and study, for this I'll watch and pray, But I've ambition reaching I know that my blessed Saviour, will help me on my way. Where sounds of hammer ring!

                                                                                                                                         The click of flying shuttles,

But tis not i the Pulpit, where I expect to preach; The whirl of rushing wheel, I may not have the talent, my fellow men to teach, The whirring of the rolling band, But I can read my Bible; its glorious truths to know; Where timid spirits reel. And in my daily actions, its precepts I can show.

                                                                                                                                          I mean to be a Worker,

And is not this thee preaching, the world demands to-day? And learn an honest trade; Without it vain the teaching, where Churches sing and pray. And if my fortune's made at all, Let Virtue be our Sermon, and Holiness, our prayer, Twill be by Labor made. Then shall we all be Preachers; and crowns of glory wear. I'll honor not the sluggard,

                                                                                                                                           Who lives on others brains;
                                                                                                                                            But glory in a life of toil,
                                                                                                                                            Where noble honor reigns.

The Preacher was the peice that Sumner spoke, another boy spoke the Worker, the Teacher had the first verse of the Worker With hammer and with chisel, omitted, and I think it sounds quite as well. With iron and with wood,

                              Marie                                                                                                    Our Saviour wrought in Nazareth,
                                                                                                                                           And all his work was good.
                                                                                                                                           And I like him will Labor,
                                                                                                                                           And if my life you search,

Will you please direct your letters to 82 State St. It may be, though no preacher, Boston, in the care of Thomas Groom, & co. then we I yet mat build a church! shall be sure to get them.