The humble farmer's wife,
And call his daughters rude and coarse,
I'll live a country life.
I'd rather spin, and weave, and knit,
And wholesome meals prepare,
Than, dressed in silk, with servants throng'd,
Lounge in my cushioned chair.
I love to see my chickens grow,
My turkies, ducks, and geese;
I love to tend my flowering plants,