There's farmers and there's farmers, br There's many a field and field, br But none of the farmers round about br Can haul such harvest-wagons out br As I from an acre's yield. br br br There's plenty and plenty of farmers br That leave the ground by the fence, br Thinking it's nice if a patch of roses br Should scratch out the hay and tickle their noses br With nice little wild-rose scents. br br br I'm not like other farmers, br I make my farming pay; br I never go in for sentiment, br And seeing that roses yield no rent br I cut the stuff away. br br br A very good thing for farmers br If they would learn my way; br For crops are all that a good field grows, br And nothing is worse than a sniff of rose br In the good strong smell of hay.