Whoever I am, wherever my lot,
Whatever I happen to be,
Contentment and duty shall hallow the spot,
That Providence orders for me;
No covetous straining and striving to gain
One feverish step in advance, –
I know my own place, and you tempt me in vain,
To hazard a change or a chance.

A care not for riches that are not my right,
No honor that is not my due,
But stand in my station, by day or by night,
The will of my Master to do.
He lent me my lot, let it be humble or high,
And set me my business here,
And whether I live in His service or die,
My heart shall be found in my sphere!

If wealthy, I stand as the steward of my King,
If poor, as the friend of my Lord,
If feeble, my prayers and my praises I bring,
If stalwart, my pend and my sword;
If wisdom be mine, I will cherish His gift,
If simpleness, bask in His love,
If sorrow, His hope shall my spirit uplift,
If joy, I will throne it above.

The good that it pleases my God to bestow,
I gratefully gather and prize;
The evil – it cannot be evil, I knew,
but only a good in disguise;
And whether my station be lowly or great,
No duty can ever be mean;
The factory-cripple is fixed in his fate,
As well as a King or a Queen!

For duty’s bright livery glorifies all
With brotherhood, equal and free,
Obeying, as children, the Heavenly call
That places us where we should be;
A servant – the badge of my servitude shines
As a jewel invested by Heaven;
A monarch – remember that justice assigns
Much service, where so much is given!

Away, then, with “helpings” that humble and harm,
Though “bettering” trips from your tongue;
Away! for your folly would scatter the charm
That round my poor poverty hung;
I felt that I stood like a man at my post,
Though peril and hardship were there, –
And all that your wisdom would counsel me most
Is – “Leave it; – do better elsewhere.”

If “better” were better indeed, and not “worse,”
I might go ahead with the rest,
But many a gain and a joy is a curse,
And many a grief for the best;
No! duties are all the “advantage” I use,
I care not for praise nor for pelf
And as for ambition, I care not to choose
My better or worse for myself.

I will not, I dare not, I cannot! I stand
Where God has ordained me to be,
An honest mechanic – or lord in the land,
He fitted my calling for me:
Whatever my state, be it weak, be it strong,
With honor or sweat on my face,
This, this is my glory, my strength and my song,
I stand like a Star in my Place!

Author: Unknown

Signs of the Times
Volume 28, Number 10; May 15, 1860

Below are the songs that were made from the poem using AI. They are identified
by the genre of the music in paranthesis.