 | Miscellaneous poems |  |
191
SONG.
INDEPENDENT FARMER.
When the bonny grey morning just peeps from the skies,
And the lark mounting, tunes her sweet lay;
With a mind unincumbered by care I arise,
My spirits light, airy, and gay.
I take up my gun; honest Tray, my good friend,
Wags his tail and jumps sportively round;
To the woods then together our footsteps we bend,
'Tis there health and pleasure are found.
I snuff the fresh air; bid defiance to care,
As happy as mortal can be;
From the toils of the great, ambition and state,
'Tis my pride and my boast to be free.
And the lark mounting, tunes her sweet lay;
With a mind unincumbered by care I arise,
My spirits light, airy, and gay.
I take up my gun; honest Tray, my good friend,
Wags his tail and jumps sportively round;
To the woods then together our footsteps we bend,
'Tis there health and pleasure are found.
I snuff the fresh air; bid defiance to care,
As happy as mortal can be;
From the toils of the great, ambition and state,
'Tis my pride and my boast to be free.
192
At noon, I delighted range o'er the rich soil,
And nature's rough children regale:
With a cup of good home-brew'd I sweeten their toil,
And laugh at the joke or the tale.
And whether the ripe waving corn I behold,
Or the innocent flock meet my sight;
Or the orchard, whose fruit is just turning to gold,
Still, still health and pleasure unite.
I snuff the fresh air; bid defiance to care,
As happy as mortal can be;
From the toils of the great, ambition and state,
'Tis my pride and my boast to be free.
And nature's rough children regale:
With a cup of good home-brew'd I sweeten their toil,
And laugh at the joke or the tale.
And whether the ripe waving corn I behold,
Or the innocent flock meet my sight;
Or the orchard, whose fruit is just turning to gold,
Still, still health and pleasure unite.
I snuff the fresh air; bid defiance to care,
As happy as mortal can be;
From the toils of the great, ambition and state,
'Tis my pride and my boast to be free.
At night to my lowly roof'd cot I return,
When oh, what new sources of bliss;
My children rush out, while their little hearts burn,
Each striving to gain the first kiss.
My Dolly appears with a smile on her face,
Good humour presides at our board;
What more than health, plenty, good humour, and peace,
Can the wealth of the Indies afford?
I sink into rest, with content in my breast,
As happy as mortal can be;
From the toils of the great, ambition and state,
'Tis my pride and my boast to be free.
When oh, what new sources of bliss;
My children rush out, while their little hearts burn,
Each striving to gain the first kiss.
My Dolly appears with a smile on her face,
Good humour presides at our board;
193
Can the wealth of the Indies afford?
I sink into rest, with content in my breast,
As happy as mortal can be;
From the toils of the great, ambition and state,
'Tis my pride and my boast to be free.
| Miscellaneous poems | |