The axe and spade in no one’s hands are mean,
And least of all in thine, that toiled to clear
The mind’s free march—Illustrious Pioneer!
XI.
His cottage finished, he proceeds to rear
A strong rude paling round that verdant glade
His field and garden soon will flourish there,
And wild marauders may their fruits invade;
His maize may be a banquet for the bear,