Read it through once

There stands the Master. Study, my friends, What a man’s work comes to! So he plans it, Performs it, perfects it, makes amends For the toiling and moiling, and then, ‘sic transit’! Happier the thrifty blind-folk labor, With upturned eye while the hand is busy, Not sidling a glance at the coin of their neighbor! ‘Tis looking downward makes one dizzy.