A country life is sweet
In moderate cold and heat
To walk in the air, how pleasant and fair
In ev'ry field of wheat
The fairest of flowers adorning the bowers
And ev'ry meadow's brow
So that, I say, no courtier may
Compare with them who clothe in grey
And follow the useful plough

They rise with the morning lark
And labour till almost dark
Then folding their sheep, they hasten to sleep
While ev'ry pleasant park
Next morning is ringing with birds that are singing
On each green tender bough
With what content and merriment
Their days are spent, whose minds are bent
To follow the useful plough