The Farmer's Boy

He's up at daybreak in the morning,
In his uncouth working frock;
Out in the barnyard, blithe and gay,
Busily feeding the stock.

He plants and hoes and plows out the corn,
And he reaps the golden wheat;
And he rakes and stacks the scented hay
In the scorching summer heat.

He harvests the corn in the Autumn,
And gathers the apples good
From the tall, old trees in the orchard,
And he chops the winter's wood.

He hunts the squirrel, rabbit and fox
In the morning bright and soon;
And he hunts the 'coon and the 'possum
By the gentle light of the moon.

He milks the cows, he fishes and skates,
He is full of fun and noise;
He goes to school; he courts the girls,
And romps with the other boys.

His life is as sweet and gay as can be,
As wild as the daisies fair,
As care-free as bluebird's in summer,
And wholesome as mountain air.
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