TsgEE OHIO.

THE FAKAIEK.
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Sweet IS the Farmers sleep. Sweet, if by toil he earns his bread; He knows not half the cares and dread Which agitate the weak man s mind, And make him watch and weep;

 But ca sting sorrow to the wind, Sweet Is the FarmeF's sleep.

 Refreshing arc his dreams, No tantalizing scenes of wealth Mock him, possessed ef ease and health He fears not murderers storms, nor fire. The weak mans nightly themes;

 But innocence and peace inspire His light and pleasant dreams.

 And when the cheerfnl morn, Tic watchful cock prociaims aIoudy Ligt4t bY his siumbers. as cloud,

 Reflected by tho nooR day sun, On wings of light is borne,

 No tlead ache vetIs, in mantle dun. The farmers happy morn.

 0 bless my sweet repose. When tolls invite my lImbs to rest, May 10 false horrors harm my rest,

 Breathe thto' my lips thy kindest dreams Ny wiling cYelids close

 A88 as the Farmers seems, age saehmy so0ud eekose.