THE FARMER BOYS,
OH, give me the joys of the farmer boys,
In the meadows and fields so bright;
'Among the cattle, and herds, and the singing birds,
And the daisy blossoms white.
The note of the horn as it, sounds each morn,
Is the music sweet to me;
And the dews distilled from the amber rills,
The gems I love to see.
Oh, give me a home if ever I roam
Where plenty and comfort abide;
And the ceaseless song of industry's throng,
Fills the soul with feelings of pride.
The sweat of the brow, while holding the plow,
Brings riches of rigor and health;
Contentment and peace each day will increase,
Thus giving invaluable wealth.
O knights of the soil! Ye champions of toil!
The world is moved by the plow;
The sickle and flail they never will fail
Each man is obliged to allow.
So manfully fight like a conquering knight,
For labor wins the prize;
And the hand of toil, though tanned and soiled,
The bread of the world supplies.
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