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.
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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!
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 life of the husbandman,--a life led by the bounty of earth
and sweetened by the airs of heaven.
The life of the husbandman,--a life led by the bounty of earth
and sweetened by the airs of heaven.
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,
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,
A field becomes exhausted by constant tillage.
[Lat., Continua messe senescit ager.]
A field becomes exhausted by constant tillage.
[Lat., Continua messe senescit ager.]
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.
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.
Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield:
Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke:
How read more
Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield:
Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke:
How jocund did they drive their team a-field!
How bow'd the woods beneath their sturdy stroke!
