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THE GOOD OLD PLOUGH.
, 'Neath yon lowly roof he lies,
The husbandman, with sleep-sealed eyes : AS SUNG BY THE HUTCHINSONS.
He dreams of crowded barns, and round LET them sing who may of the battle fray,
The yard he hears the flail resound; And the deeds that have long since past;
0, may no hurricane destroy Let them chant in praise of the tar whose days,
| His visionary views of joy! Are spent on the ocean vast.
'God of the winds ! O, hear his humble prayer, I would render to these all the worship you please,
And while the Moon of Harvest shines, thy I would honor them even now ;
blustering whirlwind spare ! But I'd give far more from my heart's full store
To the cause of the Good Old Plough.
HENRY KIRKE WHITE.
Let them laud the notes that in music float
Through the bright and glittering hall ;
Round the shoulder of beauty fall.
And the rich and blossoming bough;
As he follows the Good Old Plough!
Full many there be that daily we see,
With a selfish and hollow pride,
With a scornful look deride;
From his hand than to wealth I'd bow ;
First in the field before the reddening sun,
All honor be, then, to these gray old men,
When at last they are bowed with toil ! Their warfare then o'er, they battle no more,
For they've conquered the stubborn soil.
And ne'er shall the victor's brow
These are the hands whose sturdy labor brings
TO THE HARVEST MOON.
PLEASING 't is, O modest Moon!
And thinking soon,
O modest Moon !
Along the road,
To see the load,
O gracious Mother, whose benignant breast
No, by these hills whose banners now displayed | No helpmates teach the docile steed his road
There, warm with toil, his panting horses browse
Till rest delicious chase each transient pain,
Hour after hour and day to day succeeds, WHERE noble Grafton spreads his rich domains, Till every clod and deep-drawn furrow spreads Round Euston's watered vale and sloping plains, To crumbling mould, - a level surface clear, Where woods and groves in solemn grandeur rise, And strewed with corn to crown the rising year; Where the kite brooding unmolested flies, And o'er the whole Giles, once transverse again, The woodcock and the painted pheasant race, In earth's moist bosom buries up the grain. And skulking foxes, destined for the chase; The work is done ; no more to man is given ; There Giles, untaught and unrepining, strayed The grateful farmer trusts the rest to Heaven. Through every copse and grove and winding glade;
| His simple errand done, he homeward hies ; There his first thoughts tɔ Nature's charms in. Another instantly his place supplies. clined,
The clattering dairy-maid immersed in steam, That stamps devotion on the inquiring mind. Singing and scrubbing midst her milk and cream, A little farm his generous master tilled, Bawls out, “Go fetch the cows !” – he hears no Who with peculiar grace his station filled;
more ; By deeds of hospitality endeared,
For pigs and ducks and turkeys throng the Served from affection, for his worth revered, I door, A happy offspring blest his plenteous board, And sitting hens for constant war prepared, His fields were fruitful, and his barns well, stored, A concert strange to that which late he heard. And fourscore ewes he fed, a sturdy team, Straight to the meadow then he whistling goes; And lowing kine that grazed beside the stream; With well-known halloo calls his lazy cows ; Unceasing industry he kept in view,
Down the rich pasture heedlessly they graze, And never lacked a job for Giles to do.
Or hear the summons with an idle gaze;
For well they know the cow-yard yields no more Fled now the sullen murmurs of the north, Its tempting fragrance, nor its wintry store. The splendid raiment of the Spring peeps forth ; Reluctance marks their steps, sedate and slow, Her universal green and the clear sky
The right of conquest all the law they know; Delight still more and more the gazing eye. The strong press on, the weak by turns succeed, Wide o'er the fields, in rising moisture strong, And one superior always takes the lead, Shoots up the simple flower, or creeps along Is ever foremost wheresoe'er they stray, The mellowed soil, imbibing fairer hues, Allowed precedence, undisputed sway ;' Orsweets from frequent showers and evening dews; With jealous pride her station is maintained, That summon from their sheds the slumbering For many a broil that post of honor gained. ploughs,
At home, the yard affords a grateful scene, While health impregnates every breeze that blows. For spring makes e'en a miry cow-yard clean. No wheels support the diving, pointed share; Thence from its chalky bed behold conveyed No groaning ox is doomed to labor there; The rich manure that drenching winter made,