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Second to agriculture, humbug is the biggest industry of our age
Second to agriculture, humbug is the biggest industry of our age
He who owns the soil, owns up to the sky.
[Lat., Cujus est solum, ejus est usque ad coelum.]
He who owns the soil, owns up to the sky.
[Lat., Cujus est solum, ejus est usque ad coelum.]
A field becomes exhausted by constant tillage.
[Lat., Continua messe senescit ager.]
A field becomes exhausted by constant tillage.
[Lat., Continua messe senescit ager.]
In ancient times, the sacred Plough employ'd
The Kings and awful Fathers of mankind:
And some, with read more
In ancient times, the sacred Plough employ'd
The Kings and awful Fathers of mankind:
And some, with whom compared your insect-tribes
Are but the beings of a summer's day,
Have held the Scale of Empire, ruled the Storm
Of mighty War; then, with victorious hand,
Disdaining little delicacies, seized
The Plough, and, greatly independent, scorned
All the vile stores corruption can bestow.
And he gave it for his opinion, "that whoever could make two ears
of corn, or two blades of read more
And he gave it for his opinion, "that whoever could make two ears
of corn, or two blades of grass, to grow upon a spot of ground
where only one grew before, would deserve better of mankind, and
do more essential service to his country, than the whole race of
politicians put together."
With the introduction of agriculture mankind entered upon a long period of meanness, misery, and madness, from which they are read more
With the introduction of agriculture mankind entered upon a long period of meanness, misery, and madness, from which they are only now being freed by the beneficent operation of the machine.
He allows very readily, that the eyes and footsteps of the master
are things most salutary to the land.
read more
He allows very readily, that the eyes and footsteps of the master
are things most salutary to the land.
[Lat., Oculos et vestiga domini, res agro saluberrimas, facilius
admittit.]
E'en in mid-harvest, while the jocund swain
Pluck'd from the brittle stalk the golden grain,
Oft have read more
E'en in mid-harvest, while the jocund swain
Pluck'd from the brittle stalk the golden grain,
Oft have I seen the war of winds contend,
And prone on earth th' infuriate storm descend,
Waste far and wide, and by the roots uptorn,
The heavy harvest sweep through ether borne,
As light straw and rapid stubble fly
In dark'ning whirlwinds round the wintry sky.
Ill husbandry braggeth
To go with the best:
Good husbandry baggeth
Up gold in read more
Ill husbandry braggeth
To go with the best:
Good husbandry baggeth
Up gold in his chest.
- Thomas Tusser,