The Rhode Island American, And General Advertiser

THE FARMER.

O happy he, happiest of mortal men,
Who, far remov'd from slavery as from pride,
Fears no man's frown, nor cringing wants to catch
The gracious nothing of a great man's nod;
Where the lac'd beggar bustles for a bribe,
The purchase of his honour: where Deceit,
And Fraud, and Circumvention, drest in smiles,
Hold shameful Commerce; and, beneath the mask
Of friendship and sincerity, betray
Him; nor the stately mansion's gilded pride,
Rich with whate'er the imitative arts,
Painting or sculpture, yield to charm the eye;
Nor shining heaps of massy plate, enwrought
With curious, costly workmanship, allure.
Tempted nor with the pride nor pomp of power
Nor pageants of ambition, nor the mines
Of grasping avarice, nor the poison'd sweets
Of pamper'd luxury, he plants his foot
With firmness on his old paternal fields,
And stands unshaken. There sweet prospects rise,
Of meadows smiling in their flow'ry pride,
Green hills and dales, and cottages, embow'red,
The scenes of innocence and calm delight.
There the wild melody of warbling birds,
And cool refreshing groves and murm'ring springs,
Invite to sacred thought, and lift the mind
From low pursuits, to meditate on God.