O toiler through the glooms of night in peril and pain
Your toiling stint for daily bread comes not by might and main
Seest you not the fisher seeks a float upon the sea?
His bread, while glimmer stars of night as set in tangled skin
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Laud to the load who give to this, to that denies his wishes And dooms one toil and catch the prey and other eats the fish how true you are! well written!
Thank you Sir Veeraiyah