There's farmers and there's farmers, <br />There's many a field and field, <br />But none of the farmers round about <br />Can haul such harvest-wagons out <br />As I from an acre's yield. <br /> <br /> <br />There's plenty and plenty of farmers <br />That leave the ground by the fence, <br />Thinking it's nice if a patch of roses <br />Should scratch out the hay and tickle their noses <br />With nice little wild-rose scents. <br /> <br /> <br />I'm not like other farmers, <br />I make my farming pay; <br />I never go in for sentiment, <br />And seeing that roses yield no rent <br />I cut the stuff away. <br /> <br /> <br />A very good thing for farmers <br />If they would learn my way; <br />For crops are all that a good field grows, <br />And nothing is worse than a sniff of rose <br />In the good strong smell of hay.<br /><br />John Crowe Ransom<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/one-who-rejects-christ/
