IN FRENCH FIELDS.
193
Love—Honour—to the farmer's wife
So pretty and so kind!
A wild bird that delights to live
In flowers and moss enshrined!
Old Vagabond and orphan child,
That need a fork and knife,
May you, by good luck, come across,
The farm and farmer's wife!
The empty stool beside the hearth
The poor man's is, at sight,
And the great chest of walnut wood
Denies him not his right.
'Twas there one day I came to sit,
Weary with worldly strife,
One day—then forward, and farewell!
O farm and farmer's wife!
My one good day has had its end
Long since, long since, ah me!
But there is pleasure for me yet
In its sweet memory.
