The thoughtful farmer reads the Sacred Book,
Then, with the wife and children of his heart,
With mind serene, and reverential look,
He humbly kneels, as is the Christian's part,
And worships Thee, Our Father, Thee, who art
The good man's hope, the poor man's only stay;
Who hast a balm for sorrow's keenest dart,
A smile for those to thee who humbly pray,
Which, like the morning sun, drives every cloud away.
Thou Lord of heaven above and earth below,
Our Maker and our Guide, our hope, our all!
Be thou the farmer's friend. In want and woe,
Teach him to look to thee, on thee to call;
Nor let his steps in error's pathway fall.
With him preserve his loved, his native land;
In innocence and honor let her stand;
And centuries yet to come, oh, hold her in thy hand!
