 | Echoes of Spring |  |
24
EULOGY ON THE FARM.
written for the Farmer's Institute of Blue Ash Ohio.
Could I but sing to you in rhyme,
Like old bards learned and hoary;
My notes would echo on the wind,
And tell a stirring story.
Like old bards learned and hoary;
My notes would echo on the wind,
And tell a stirring story.
With sweetest song, of music strong,
With notes of graceful measure,
I'd bear the rhythm to along,
And sing it in my leisure.
With notes of graceful measure,
I'd bear the rhythm to along,
And sing it in my leisure.
'Twould be about the many farms,
Within our native county;
When spring renews her vernal charms,
And dawns the harvest bounty.
Within our native county;
When spring renews her vernal charms,
And dawns the harvest bounty.
When zephyrs blow, where brooklets flow,
Through meads 'mong grasses tender,
Where bright the modest violets grow,
And blooms with nature's splendor.
Through meads 'mong grasses tender,
Where bright the modest violets grow,
And blooms with nature's splendor.
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When orchard trees are filled with bloom,
And all the air perfuming,
What charms bedecks the farmer's home,
While each task he's resuming.
And all the air perfuming,
What charms bedecks the farmer's home,
While each task he's resuming.
With ceaseless moil, he turns the soil,
And furrows throw together;
He lends his brawny hands to toil,
And welcomes summer weather.
And furrows throw together;
He lends his brawny hands to toil,
And welcomes summer weather.
He works with valorous strength each day,
Though oft at night he 's weary;
His manly heart beats proud and gay,
Through midnight hours so dreary.
Though oft at night he 's weary;
His manly heart beats proud and gay,
Through midnight hours so dreary.
His many fields abundance yields,
From corn, wheat-fields, to meadow,
Each fleeting hour, a new growth steals,
From night to noon-tide's shadow.
From corn, wheat-fields, to meadow,
Each fleeting hour, a new growth steals,
From night to noon-tide's shadow.
His cattle 'mong the wood-land hills,
And fields of rank green clover,
Sips water from the flowing rills,
Where minnows love to hover.
And fields of rank green clover,
Sips water from the flowing rills,
Where minnows love to hover.
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I cannot sing like bards of old,
With music sweet and tender,
Yet in my feeble song, though bold,
The girls and boys remember.
With music sweet and tender,
Yet in my feeble song, though bold,
The girls and boys remember.
Beauty and grace bedeck the face,
Of all the farmer maidens;
And many a kindly deeds retrace,
Her hands, with beauty laden.
Of all the farmer maidens;
And many a kindly deeds retrace,
Her hands, with beauty laden.
Concealed behind life's curtains drawn,
Oft honored fame lies waiting,
For woman-hoods' and man-hoods' dawn,
With valorous deeds relating.
Oft honored fame lies waiting,
For woman-hoods' and man-hoods' dawn,
With valorous deeds relating.
Now don't disdain my closing strain,
There's naught like country living;
I fain would sing of courting swains,
And annual bounties given.
There's naught like country living;
I fain would sing of courting swains,
And annual bounties given.
For 'tis the farm with boys and girls,
And fruitful crops a growing,
That constitutes our living world,
With health and plenty flowing.
And fruitful crops a growing,
That constitutes our living world,
With health and plenty flowing.
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May God bestow a helping hand,
To all an ample bounty;
With blessings on the farmer's land,
And on our dear old county.
To all an ample bounty;
With blessings on the farmer's land,
And on our dear old county.
| Echoes of Spring | |