Where grows?--where grows it not? If vain our toil,
We ought to blame the culture, not the soil.

Where grows?--where grows it not? If vain our toil,
We ought to blame the culture, not the soil.

Ill husbandry lieth
In prison for debt:
Good husbandry spieth
Where profit get.
read more

Ill husbandry lieth
In prison for debt:
Good husbandry spieth
Where profit get.
- Thomas Tusser,

Agriculture not only gives riches to a nation, but the only riches she can call her own

Agriculture not only gives riches to a nation, but the only riches she can call her own

The diligent farmer plants trees, of which he himself will never
see the fruit.
[Lat., Abores serit diligens read more

The diligent farmer plants trees, of which he himself will never
see the fruit.
[Lat., Abores serit diligens agricola, quarum adspiciet baccam
ipse numquam.]

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."

Happy he who far from business, like the primitive are of
mortals, cultivates with his own oxen the fields read more

Happy he who far from business, like the primitive are of
mortals, cultivates with his own oxen the fields of his fathers,
free from all anxieties of gain.
[Lat., Beatus ille qui procul negotiis,
Ut prisca gens mortalium,
Paterna rura bobus exercet suis,
Solutus omni faenore.]

Here Ceres' gifts in waving prospect stand,
And nodding tempt the joyful reaper's hand.

Here Ceres' gifts in waving prospect stand,
And nodding tempt the joyful reaper's hand.

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.

Ye rigid Ploughman! bear in mind
Your labor is for future hours.
Advance! spare not! nor look read more

Ye rigid Ploughman! bear in mind
Your labor is for future hours.
Advance! spare not! nor look behind!
Plough deep and straight with all your powers!