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THE KINGS OF THE SOIL.

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THE KINGS OF THE SOIL. BLACK sin will nestle below a crest, And crime below a crown, As good hearts beat 'neath a fustian vest, As under a golden gown. Shall tales be told of the chiefs who sold Their sicews to crush and kill. And never a word be sung or heard Of the men who reap and till? I bow in thanks to the sturdy throng Who greet the young morn with toil. And the burden I give my earnest song Shall be this—The Kings of the soil! Then sing for the kings who have no crown, But the blue sky o'er their head; Never sultan or Dey had such power as they To withhold or to offer bread! Proud ships may hold both silver and gold, The wealth of a distant strand, But ships would rot and be valued not Were there none to till the land. The wildest heath, the wildest brake, Are rich as the richest fleet, For they feed the glad birds when they wake, And give the beasts to eat. And with willing hand, and spade, and plough, The gladdening hour shall come, When that which is called the waste land" now Shall ring with the Harvest home." Then sing for the kings who have no crown But the blue sky o'er their head; Never sultan or dey had such power as they To withhold or to offer bread! I envy him whose feet can tread By the corn his hand hath sown When he hears the stir of the yellow reed, It it more than musie's tone. There are prophet sounds that stir the grain, When its golden stalks shoot up, Voices that tell how a world of men Shall daily dine and sup. Then shame, oh shame, on the miser creed, That doles out praise or pay To the men whose hand makes rich the land, For who earn it more than they t Tben sing for the kings who have no crown But the blue sky o'er their head Never sultan or dey had such power as they To withhold or to offer bread The poet hath gladdened with song the past, And still does he strike the string, But a brighter light on him is cast Who can plough as well as siug. The wand of Burns had a double power To soften the common heart; Since with harp and spade, in a double trade, He shared a common part. Rome lavished fame on the yeoman's name Who banished her deep distress, But had he ne'er quitted the field or plough, His mission had not been less. Then sing for the kings who are missioned all To a toil that is rife with good Never sultan or dey had such power as they To withhold or to offer food Bridgwater. E. H. BURRINGTON. «-

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