Den som ser sig om när han har satt sin hand till plogen, han passar inte för Guds rike. (You’ve watched your father plough the fields with a ram’s horn Sowed it wide with peppercorn and furrowed with a bramble thorn Reaped it with a sharpened scyth, thrashed it with a quill The miller told your father that he’d work it with the greatest will Now your watching’s over you must play with girls and boys Leave the parsley on the stalls Come and buy my toys)