Suggested By The Award Of A Gold Medal To The Author Of 'The Young Gardener's Assistant,' At The Fourteenth Annual Fair Of The American Institute, 1841, For Its Great Practical Utility.
By D. Mitchell.
As Valor's meed, and Honor's brightest test, I've seen a Medal on a Warrior's breast; But to my mind it brought sad scenes to view -The sweeping carnage of red Waterloo -The orphan's tear - the widow's drooping head, For slaughter'd heroes on false glory's bed -The earth made desolate, its fruits despoil'd, By mad Ambition, fearless and unfoil'd! Not so the Token thou hast gained from Peace, Thou lov'st to see fair Nature's wide increase, And the "Young Gard'ner," in thy fertile book, Finds an "Assistant" not to be mistook! Thine is the pleasing art to cultivate,
Fill Plenty's horn, and better man's estate; Thine is the wish the Cotter's life to mend, And teach him that a garden is his friend: That Virtue smiles -sheds blessings on his head, And makes him happy in his humble shed, Who tends his "little patch" in well spent hours, Amid his kitchen treasures and his flowers; That Vice ne'er mars a lovely scene like this -The consummation of the poor man's bliss! Health, my firm friend, long life and health to thee, Health to the scions from the parent tree; Well may thy trophy be a source of pride, May they preserve it, whatsoe'r betide: 'Tis a memento for imparting good, More nobly won than that for shedding blood!