THE PRESS AND THE PLOUGH.
We efivy not the princely man, In city or in town, Who wonders whether pumpkin vines Turn iip the hill or down. We care not for his marble halk, Nor yet his hoaps of gold; "We would not own his sordid heart! For all his wealth untold. We are favoured" ones on earth, We breathe pure air each morn, We sow, we reap the golden grain, Wo gather in the corn. "We toil-—we live on what we earn, And more than this we do-r» We hear of starving millions round, And gladly feed them too. The lawyer lives on princely fees, Yet drags a weary life, He never knows a peaceful hour, Hid atmosphere is strifo. A merchant thumbs his yardstick o'er, Grows haggard at the toil, He's not the man God meant him for, Why don't he till the soil j The doctor plods through storm and rain ; Plods at his patient's will; When dead and gone he plods again, To get his lengthy bill. The printer—bles3 his noble soul f He grasps the mighty earth, And stamps it on our daily sheet To choetf the labourer'3 hearth. We sing then honor to the Plough, And honor to the Press— Two noble instruments of toil, Each with a power to bless. The bone, the nerve of this fast age, True wealth of human kind ; One tills the ever fattltfid earth,. The other tills the mind.
Permanent link to this item
https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/KUMAT18780530.2.12
Bibliographic details
Kumara Times, Issue 522, 30 May 1878, Page 2
Word Count
241THE PRESS AND THE PLOUGH. Kumara Times, Issue 522, 30 May 1878, Page 2
Using This Item
No known copyright (New Zealand)
To the best of the National Library of New Zealand’s knowledge, under New Zealand law, there is no copyright in this item in New Zealand.
You can copy this item, share it, and post it on a blog or website. It can be modified, remixed and built upon. It can be used commercially. If reproducing this item, it is helpful to include the source.
For further information please refer to the Copyright guide.
Log in