Friday, January 16, 2015

The Farmer

Before the open grate he sits,
and watches the embers glow;
outside the winds of winter
drift high the frozen snow.

Content is he, this farmer,
for done is the work today.
His family at his fireside,
his children at their play.

His cattle snugly sheltered,
the season's work is done,
His toil throughout the summer
a competence has won.

Heaped high the lean-to shed
with knot, with stick and splinter,
whose captive heat and ruddy glow
defy the blasts of winter.

He craves those pleasures not
that city-wise are sent,
for his family and his farm
make up his heart's content.
Frank H. Craig, Waits River, Vermont 1928

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