The Farmer Boy

Qod's Messing rest upon hitii ! That sun-burnt farmer boy, Whose footstep rings with umsic, And eye is lit witli joy ; Upon whose clieek, suu-darkened, The rose of health he wears, And whose clear gushiiig laughter Hath not a sound of tears. What thougli in russel jacket, And coaise and homespun shirt, And with a hand toil liardened That hath a trace of dirt ; And boots so torn and baitered, His toes scarce keep witbin, And hat, through mauy a cranny The sunbearas nestle in. Up in the morning early, The sleek, fat cows to briug, Or up the green slope toiling With water from the spring ; Then far off to the meadow, Wliere stands the ripened hay, AH ready to be gathered - He helps as best he may. No wonder that he catches The light from sumraer skics, As lovely and as peaceful, To trerable in his eyes ; And every flower springing. And bird, in dewy dell, Their nmsic and their sweetness Send to his heart to dweil. Qod's Messing rest upon him, The sun-burnt farmer boy, With nature for his teacher. His life shall be a joy ; Not low and si'lfish grasping, Despite his brow of tan, God and good men shall know him As one who is a man. The plough, the hoe, the shovel Shall one day greater be Than ever crown and scepter - VVhen mind, enchained, is free; Then, for your jeweled monarchs, Now, may ye shout and sing, For in the "good time coming," The farmer will be king !