It matters not whate’er your lot or what your task may be
One duty there remains for you, One duty stands for me.
Be you a doctor skilled and wise, Or do your work for wage,
A labourer upon the street, An artist on the stage;
One glory still awaits for you. One honour that is fair,
To have men say as you pass by: “That fellow’s on the square.”
Ah, here’s a phrase that stands for much, Tis good old English, too;
It means that men have confidence In everything you do.
It means that what you have you’ve earned, And that you’ve done your best
And when you go to sleep at night Untroubled you may rest.
It means that conscience is your guide, And honour is your care;
There is no greater praise than this: “That fellow’s on the square.”
And when I die I would not wish A lengthy epitaph;
I do not want a headstone large, Carved with fulsome chaff.
Pick out no single deed of mine, If such a deed there be,
To ‘grave upon my monument, For those who come to see.
Just this one phrase of all I choose, To show my life was fair:
“Here sleepeth now a fellow who Was always on the square.” – Anon