Lines Read At A Dairymen's Supper - Poem by James McIntyre
It almost now seems all in vain
For to expect high price for grain,
Wheat is grown on Egyptian soil
On the banks of mighty Nile.
And where the Ganges it doth flow,
In India fine wheat doth grow,
And the price of labor is so cheap
That it they can successful reap.
Then let the farmers justly prize
The cows for land they fertilize,
And let us all with songs and glees
Invoke success into the cheese.
Comments about Lines Read At A Dairymen's Supper by James McIntyre
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You