The Farmer (A Song)
Dublin Core
Title
The Farmer (A Song)
Description
A farmer's life is the life for me,
I own I love it dearly;
And every season, full of glee,
I take its labors cheerly -
To plough or sow,
To reap or mow,
Or in the barn to thrash, sir,
All's one to me,
I plainly see
'Twill bring me health and cash, sir.
The lawyer leads a harass'd life,
Much like that of a hunted otter,
And 'tween his own and others' strife,
He's always in hot water -
For foe or friend,
A cause defend,
However wrong, must he, sir -
In reason's spite,
Maintain 'tis right,
And dearly earn his fee, sir.
The doctor's styled a gentleman,
But this I hold but humming;
For; like a tavern waiting man,
To every call "he's coming" -
Now here, now there,
Must he repair,
Or starve, sir, by denying -
Like death himself,
Unhappy elf,
He lives by others' dying.
A farmer's life, then, let me live,
Obtaining while I lead it,
Enough for self, and some to give
To such poor souls as need it.
I'll drain and fence,
Nor grudge expense,
To give my land good dressing -
I'll plough and sow,
Or drill in row,
And hope from heaven a blessing.
I own I love it dearly;
And every season, full of glee,
I take its labors cheerly -
To plough or sow,
To reap or mow,
Or in the barn to thrash, sir,
All's one to me,
I plainly see
'Twill bring me health and cash, sir.
The lawyer leads a harass'd life,
Much like that of a hunted otter,
And 'tween his own and others' strife,
He's always in hot water -
For foe or friend,
A cause defend,
However wrong, must he, sir -
In reason's spite,
Maintain 'tis right,
And dearly earn his fee, sir.
The doctor's styled a gentleman,
But this I hold but humming;
For; like a tavern waiting man,
To every call "he's coming" -
Now here, now there,
Must he repair,
Or starve, sir, by denying -
Like death himself,
Unhappy elf,
He lives by others' dying.
A farmer's life, then, let me live,
Obtaining while I lead it,
Enough for self, and some to give
To such poor souls as need it.
I'll drain and fence,
Nor grudge expense,
To give my land good dressing -
I'll plough and sow,
Or drill in row,
And hope from heaven a blessing.
Creator
J.J. Barker; Sung at a meeting of the Agricultural Society at New Brunswick
Source
The Colored American
Date
1839.08.31
Collection
Citation
J.J. Barker; Sung at a meeting of the Agricultural Society at New Brunswick, “The Farmer (A Song),” No Stain of Tears and Blood, accessed October 22, 2026, https://productsoffreelabor.com/items/show/57.
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