Thank you for visiting SNEWPapers!
Sign up free
Poem
October 23, 1873
Eaton Weekly Democrat
Eaton, Preble County, Ohio
What is this article about?
The poem reflects on the peaceful, content life of neighbor Jones on his modest forty-acre farm, contrasting it with the dissatisfaction of those with larger estates, and urges learning the lesson of contentment over endless wanting.
Clipping
OCR Quality
98%
Excellent
Full Text
THE FORTY-ACRE FARM.
BY JOHN B. YATES.
I'm thinkin', wife, of neighbor Jones, that man with
stalwart arm.
He lives in peace and plenty on a forty-acre farm;
While men are all around us, with hands and hearts
a score,
Who own two hundred acres, and still
are wanting
more.
His is a pretty little farm, a pretty little house,
He has a loving wife within, as quiet as a mouse;
His children play around the door--their father's
life to charm
Looking as neat and tidy as the tidy little farm.
No weeds are in the corn fields, no thistles in the
oats;
The horses show good keeping by their fine and
glossy coats
The cows within the
meadow, resting 'neath the
beechen shade,
Learn all the gentle manners of the gentle milking
maid.
Within the field--on Saturdays--he leaves no cradled
grain
To be gathered on the morrow, for fear of coming
rain:
He keeps the Sabbath holy--his children learn his
And plenty fills his barns and bins after the harvest
days.
He never has a lawsuit to take him to the town.
For the very reason there are no line fences down:
The bar-room in the village does not have for him a
charm:
I can always find my neighbor on his forty-acre
farm.
His
acres
are
very
few
he
plows--them very
deep
Tis his own hands that turn the sod--'tis his own
hands that reap;
He has a place for everything, and things are in
their place:
The sunshine smiles upon his fields, contentment in
his face.
May we not learn a lesson, wife, from prudent
neighbor Jones,
And not--for what we haven't got--give up to sighs
and moans?
The rich ain't always happy, nor free from life's
alarms,
But blest are they that live content, though small
may be their farms.
BY JOHN B. YATES.
I'm thinkin', wife, of neighbor Jones, that man with
stalwart arm.
He lives in peace and plenty on a forty-acre farm;
While men are all around us, with hands and hearts
a score,
Who own two hundred acres, and still
are wanting
more.
His is a pretty little farm, a pretty little house,
He has a loving wife within, as quiet as a mouse;
His children play around the door--their father's
life to charm
Looking as neat and tidy as the tidy little farm.
No weeds are in the corn fields, no thistles in the
oats;
The horses show good keeping by their fine and
glossy coats
The cows within the
meadow, resting 'neath the
beechen shade,
Learn all the gentle manners of the gentle milking
maid.
Within the field--on Saturdays--he leaves no cradled
grain
To be gathered on the morrow, for fear of coming
rain:
He keeps the Sabbath holy--his children learn his
And plenty fills his barns and bins after the harvest
days.
He never has a lawsuit to take him to the town.
For the very reason there are no line fences down:
The bar-room in the village does not have for him a
charm:
I can always find my neighbor on his forty-acre
farm.
His
acres
are
very
few
he
plows--them very
deep
Tis his own hands that turn the sod--'tis his own
hands that reap;
He has a place for everything, and things are in
their place:
The sunshine smiles upon his fields, contentment in
his face.
May we not learn a lesson, wife, from prudent
neighbor Jones,
And not--for what we haven't got--give up to sighs
and moans?
The rich ain't always happy, nor free from life's
alarms,
But blest are they that live content, though small
may be their farms.
What sub-type of article is it?
Ballad
What themes does it cover?
Moral Virtue
Nature Seasons
What keywords are associated?
Forty Acre Farm
Neighbor Jones
Contentment
Simple Life
Moral Lesson
Rural Farm
Prudent Living
What entities or persons were involved?
By John B. Yates.
Poem Details
Title
The Forty Acre Farm.
Author
By John B. Yates.
Form / Style
Rhymed Quatrains
Key Lines
I'm Thinkin', Wife, Of Neighbor Jones, That Man With Stalwart Arm.
His Is A Pretty Little Farm, A Pretty Little House,
May We Not Learn A Lesson, Wife, From Prudent Neighbor Jones,
The Rich Ain't Always Happy, Nor Free From Life's Alarms,
But Blest Are They That Live Content, Though Small May Be Their Farms.