A PRODUCT OF THE FARM

I am a product of the farm,

      I grew upon the soil;

Born of the mighty Kings of Earth,

      The hardy Sons of Toil.

I lived the simple, rustic life

      Which God Almighty planned,

And swung the hoe day after day

      With strong and willing hands.

I grew up with the weeds and flowers

      Which scattered everywhere;

My soul absorbed a part of each,

      Of each I hold a share.

I am a part of life, and life

      Consists of half and half;

With every ounce of perfect wheat

      There grows an ounce of chaff.

I am a product of the farm,

      The garden spot of earth;

And I am proud, and proud am I

      Of my most humble birth.

I’ve known the miseries of want,

      I’ve had a taste of wealth;

But best of all I’ve felt the joy

      Of blessed country health.

Aye, yes, a product of the farm,

      With Webster, Lincoln, Clay;

In all but paltry wealth and fame

      I am as great as they.

And any man is great, and life

      Should hold the sweetest charm

For him who says he’s proud to be

      A product of the farm.

                                 Joe Cone

March 20, 1900