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,

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.]

Three acres and a cow.

Three acres and a cow.

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

When the land is cultivated entirely by the spade, and no horses
are kept, a cow is kept for read more

When the land is cultivated entirely by the spade, and no horses
are kept, a cow is kept for every three acres of land.

Cultivators of the earth are the most valuable citizens. They are the most vigorous, the most independant, the most virtuous, read more

Cultivators of the earth are the most valuable citizens. They are the most vigorous, the most independant, the most virtuous, and they are tied to their country and wedded to it’s liberty and interests by the most lasting bands

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.]

Agriculture is best, enterprise is acceptable, but avoid being on a fixed wage.

Agriculture is best, enterprise is acceptable, but avoid being on a fixed wage.

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.