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Look up! the wide extended plain
Is billowy with its ripened grain,
And on the summer winds read more
Look up! the wide extended plain
Is billowy with its ripened grain,
And on the summer winds are rolled
Its waves of emerald and gold.
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.]
Adam, well may we labour, still to dress
This garden, still to tend plant, herb, and flower.
Adam, well may we labour, still to dress
This garden, still to tend plant, herb, and flower.
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.
Our rural ancestors with little blest,
Patient of labour when the end was rest,
Indulg'd the day read more
Our rural ancestors with little blest,
Patient of labour when the end was rest,
Indulg'd the day that hous'd their annual grain,
With feasts, and off'rings, and a thankful strain.
He was a very inferior farmer when he first begun . . . and he is
now fast rising read more
He was a very inferior farmer when he first begun . . . and he is
now fast rising from affluence to poverty.
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.
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.]