The Boy With the Hoe by T. B. Weaver

How are you hoeing your row, my boy?
Say, how are you hoeing your row?
Do you hoe it fair?
Do you hoe it square?
Do you hoe it the best that you know?
Do you cut out the weeds as you ought to do?
Do you plant what is beautiful there?
For the harvest, you know,
Will be just what you sow;
Are you working it on the square?
Say, are you killing the weeds, my boy?
Are you hoeing your row neat and clean?
Are you going straight
At a hustling gait?
Are you cutting out all that is mean?
Do you whistle and sing as you toil along?
Are you finding your work a delight?
If you do it this way
You will gladden the day,
And your row will be tended right.
Hoeing your row with a will, my boy,
And giving it thought and care,
Will insure success
And your efforts bless,
As the crop to the garner you bear;
For the world will look on as you hoe your row,
And will judge you by that which you do;
Therefore, try for first prize,
Though your utmost it tries,
For the harvest depends on you.