The Master Of The Soil

I like the honest farmer man,

      The hardy son of toil;

The man who hoes and rakes and mows,

      The master of the soil.

The man who wears a battered hat,

      Whose trousers show repair;

Whose horny hand attacks the land

      And plants a garden there.

The man who turns his rested eye

      To greet the waking dawn;

Whose herd he feeds and tends its needs

      Before the breakfast horn.

All hail the honest farmer man,

      And compliment his toil,

This man of worth who feeds the earth

      The master of the soil.

Sept. 1^st, 1904