For the Cincinnatug. 

 THE TRUE AND NOBLE FARMER. 



BY O . W . H . 



Clear the brown path to meet his coulter's gleam ; 



Lo ! on he comes behind his smoking team ; 



With toil's bright dew-drops on his sun-burnt brow- 



The lord of earth, the hero of the plow ; 



First in the field before the reddening sun, 



Last in the shadows when the day is done ; 



Line after line along the bursting sod, 



Marks the broad acres where his feet have trod. 



These are the hands whose sturdy labor brings 

 The peasants" food, ihe golden pomp of kings , 

 This is the page whose letters shall be seen 

 Changed by the san to words of living green ; 

 This is the scholar whose immortal pen 

 Spells the first lesson hunger taught to men ; 

 These are the lines, Oh ! heaven commanded toil ! 

 That fill thy deed— that charter of the soil. 



True to their homes, these faithfnl arms shall toil 

 To crown with peace their own untainted soil ; 

 And true to God, to freedom, to maul^ind. 

 If her chained ban-dogs faction shall unbind. 

 These stately foi*ms. that — bending even now — • 

 Bowed their strong manhood to the humble plow, 

 Shall rise erect, the guardians of the land. 

 The same stern iron in the same right hand, 

 Till Graylock thunders to the parting sun, 

 The sword hath rescued what the plowshare won. ' 



(48) 



