Three acres and a cow.

Three acres and a cow.

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.

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.

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 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.

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,

"Ten acres and a mule."

"Ten acres and a mule."

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.

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.]