1858. 



NEW ENGLAND FARMER. 



113 



LINES FOB THE NEW YEAH. 



It gives us much pleasure to publish the fol- 

 lowing very pleasant epistle from our friends, the 

 publishers of "Webster's Unabridged Dictiona- 

 ry." The beautiful language in which the suc- 

 cession of the seasons is described, the picture of 

 the farmer's winter fireside, and the peace and 

 plenty which he shares after his season of labor, 

 will commend it to our readers. We hope also, 

 that the precept inculcated in the closing lines 

 will be pondered upon, and the example followed 

 by all who read these lines. 



Me. Farmer: — 



He of the foretop and the glass, 

 And swUiging scythe, (how like the grass 

 Flung to the swath, though rank and tall, 

 Before his strokes we mortals fall !) 

 Again has passed his annual track 

 Along the changing zodiac. 

 From where his race he first began, 

 At old Aquarius with his can, 

 Still swift careering through the sky. 

 Past "Aries, Taurus, Gemini," 

 Till, bearded Capricornus won, 

 The goal is gained, the circuit done. 



First came the bright and gladsome Spring, 

 Rejoiced o'er hill and dale to fling 

 Her robe of green. Along her path. 

 Scarred by the storm-king in his wrath. 

 But now, as sprang the fragrant flowers, 

 Like Eden bloomed this world of ours. 

 Forth from his wintry hybernation 

 Comes man, "the lord of the creation," 

 And "jocund drives his team afield," — 

 The ripened sheaves his lands shall yield 

 Assured shall meet the waititfg flail ; — 

 "Seed-time and harvest shall not fail," 

 The pledge, through time for aye t'endure, 

 The bow-sealed covenant makes sure, — 

 And on he guides the shining share. 

 Content, to win, the toil to share. 



Then Summer, nymph of healthiest hue, 

 Came next, and o'er the landscape threw 

 Her heightening charm. From his bright throne 

 "With light and heat refulgent" shone 

 The glorious sun ; at his broad blaze. 

 As down he pours his noontide rays, 

 Their herbage-cropping labor stayed. 

 The panting flocks seek the cool shade. 

 His scythe the stalwart mower swings 

 With vigorous arm ; or out there rings 

 Kiglit cheerily the music made 

 As with swift stroke he whets his blade. 

 Hard by, perched on some swaying bough, 

 The bobolink is singing now. 

 And fills the air with varying note, 

 As joy distends his tuneful throat. 



Autumn succeeds, — a nut-brown maid ; — 

 The garland fair that crowns her head 

 Of fruits and flowers together blent. 

 Her comrades, Peace and sweet Content. 

 The tiller from liis burdened fields 

 Garners the full increase which yields 

 Still to her sons the generous soil. 

 And well repays their trusting toil. 

 The forest dons its bright array, 

 Like Joseph's coat in colors gay, 

 And soon the "sere and yellow leaf," 

 Emblem of man's existence brief. 

 Reminds us, in our pathway found. 

 That Nature's course has run its round. 



The joyous birds of summer-time 



Have sped them to some sunnier clime. 



And now from out the upper sky. 



While on in serried files they fly. 



Honk ! honk ! comes down the wild-goose strain, 



And still in one unchanged refrain. 



As on from farthest Labrador, 



They hast to seek the Antarctic shore. 



Winter once more — an old man bowed, — 

 The winds without are piping loud, — 

 His locks are streaming in the blast ; 

 The sky with stormy clouds o'ercast ; 

 The streams congeal beneath his breath ; 

 Life yields to torpor or to death ; 

 And Earth, by snowy mantle prest, 

 Enjoys again its Sabbath rest. 

 And now, beside his evening hearth, 

 Such joys as only take their birth 

 From man's primeval occupation. 

 The farmer shares, and compensation 

 For summer's toil in winter's rest. 

 And garnered stores in peace possest. 

 The household band are grouped around, 

 In varied occupation found ; — 

 One swiftly plies the "threaded steel" — 

 One caters for the morning meal, — 

 The manly boy, he who but now 

 Tedded the swath, or steered the plow. 

 To some school problem bends his brain, 

 Or, gallant, holds the tangled skein 

 For the fair hands that well, we trow. 

 Could weave a web should catch — a beau. 

 Full at his ease there, too, the sire. 

 "The kine are snug within the byre," 

 Broadhorn, and Buck, and Dapple-Grey, — 

 Well-filled the crib, well-stored the bay, — 

 Before him lies his weekly sheet, — 

 From out his "loop-hole of retreat," 

 Through this, ("77;e Farmer," 'tis, of course,) 

 He scans the world ; its Babel hoarse 

 Comes, distance-mellowed, like the roar 

 Of far-oflf waves that strike the shore. 

 Here learns he of the "great commotion" 

 That moves men's minds, as tides the ocean. 

 Of filibustering marauders. 

 Who live by rapine and disorders, — 

 Of stocks, defaulters, "bulls" and "bears," 

 And aU the turmoil of affairs, — 

 Panics, expansion and contraction, 

 Changes that drive men to distraction. 

 And thanks kind Heaven, in language graphic, 

 His not the lot of trade and traffic. 

 Yet not from care exempt his lot, 

 (For whoso lives and suffereth not ?) 

 And, nature-taught, knows he full well. 

 The frost that withers, opes the shell. 

 The sturdy steer across the new-shorn plain, 

 Yoked with his mate, drags slow the weary wain. 

 Nor knows he draws behind the precious load, 

 Whence the same hand that pushes now the goad. 

 When the storm beats, and wintry \vinds are cliil!. 

 With thoughtful care his daily crib shall fill. 

 ***** 



Not blest as his is our employ, 

 Though once were we "the farmer's boy," 

 And still each glad association 

 Turns to his honored avocation ; 

 And so, to mitigate our grief. 

 Comes your hebdomedal relief : — 

 We read of brooks and running rills. 

 Corn-covered valleys, herd-crowned hills, 

 Of broods and breeds, root-crops and cereals, 

 Of Marrowfats, and Blue Imperials, — 

 Of reapers, red-top, and rotation, 

 Subsoiling, draining, irrigation,— 

 Of furrowed fields, and waving grain, 

 And boyhood's scenes are livsd again. 



