11 



with Bbul and heart aspiring 



And Tuarkiug out his plan, 

 With steady aim and purpose 



Resolvest o be a man. 

 No hearts are more unsullied 



And free from all alloj's,— 

 It is as true as preaching, — 



Than honest farmers' boys. 

 Unless it be the daughters, 



Who have my best respects, 

 For I have had, from boyhood, 



Regard for female sex. 

 Those noble, farmers' daughters, 



We never should despise, , 

 With rosy cheeks, and dimples, 



And merry sparkling eyes; 

 There's not a man that's single, 



Thouiib noble, ricii and grand. 

 But well-bred farmers' daughters 



Are worthy of his hand. 

 Not those who cling to parlors. 



Read love sick aovels through. 

 And leave for care-worn mothers 



The household work to do. 

 No woman more deserving. 



Or useful in their lives. 

 Or worthy of our kindness. 



Than faithful farmers' wives. 

 The man that will ill-treat her, 



Black-hearted is, and knave, 

 For help-meet she's created. 



And not a cringing slave. 

 From foot she was not severed, 



Nor region of the brain. 

 But near the heart was taken. 



And there she should remain. 

 Encourage her in music 



To cheer your leisure hours, 

 And give her ample space, too. 



For cultivating flowers. 

 To cultivate those emblems 



Shows noble heart and head, 

 They grace the nuptial service. 



We strew them o'er the dead. 

 We like to see them blooming 



Where 'sleep the heroes brave, 

 To cherish them in memory 



We strew them o'er their grave. 

 For rights, if woman clamors. 



And says she ought to vote. 

 And lordly man won't let her. 



It is a pretty note. 

 Some women will get sulky 



An'd make their husbands flop. 

 And vow that they will wear the— 

 I guees I'll not eay what. 



And some are always cheerful, 



And speak in pleasant tones. 

 Such women are a treasure, 



And make us happy homes. 

 " Right on her muss," when getting, 



And drives you to the wall. 

 Suggest she take a lesson 



From ^he Apostle Paul. 

 They're not designed for rulers, 



For wars and bloody fightb ; 

 But should, if she demands it. 



Have just and equal rights. 

 In dismal plight a man is. 



So hen-pecked that he howls 

 And longs for feathered garments, 



Then roost among the fowls. 

 Ye farmers, keep up courage. 



At business, steady keep; 

 You'll always have a market 



So loug as peojjle eat. 

 The statesmen, authors, sages. 



Of literary lore. 

 For bread, must look to farmers. 



Both now and evermore. 

 The plebeians and patricaus. 



The wicked, wise, and good. 

 On farmers are dependent 



Fpr all their daily food. • 

 Princes, kings, and artisans, 



All men of royal birth, 

 Their brains were all concocted 



From fruits of mother earth. 

 The doator gives the physic, 



For justice, lawyers call. 

 The clergy do the preaching, 



The farmer feeds them all. 

 Let farmers and mechanics 



Walk together hand in hand. 

 They are so closely linked and bound. 



Together they must stand. 

 Most kinds of labor to perform. 



Mechanics make machine 

 Propelled by water or horse-power. 



Or else by hand or steam. 

 We've strange devices in our day 



To help us in our toil. 

 And patent fertilizers, too. 



To renovate the soil. 

 Machines for work, most every kind. 



Machines to rake and mow. 

 Machines to reap and thresh and bind. 



Machines to plant and sow. 

 Machiues to wash, and knit, and sew, 



To churn and milk the cows. 

 And shear the sheap, and chickens hatch, 



And baby rock for spouee. 



