GREY’S ELEGY MECHANISED

Waikato Independent, Volume XXXIV, Issue 3109, 27 January 1934, Page 2

GREY’S ELEGY MECHANISED

[And after noting a reference to “the Ford Estate at Boreham, Essex, where all farming operations are carried out by mechanical power. Not one animal is ever seen on this farm, which might be aptly termed the ‘Farm of the Future’.”]

The hooter howls the time for knocking off. The snorting tank slogs slowly o’er the lea; O’er bruised earth the tractor leaves its trough As home the garage man proceeds for tea.

Now fades the petrol pump as darkness flops, And solemn stillness soothes the tarmac night, Save where the aeroplane (for spraying crops) Droning descends from its last evening flight.

No lowing herd with distant message wakes The drowsy dusk of petrol-scented eve; Only a squeal from someone’s fourwheel brakes Which need th’ adjustment they should oft receive.

No cowman drives the cattle to their shed, No maiden bustles forth to feed the hens; There are no pigs or horses to he fed, There are no sheep in any last year’s pens.

The urgent call of exhaust-laden morn Sees much ado with spanner, shaft, and crank; The “cattle” which this later farm adorn Stand like a row of taxis on their rank.

The boast of Royal Show and Smithfield stock, The pride of pedigree in shires and steers, Alike must take the inevitable knock; The path of progress leads to tanks and gears.

So let’s rejoice that, under yonder elm, The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep, For, could they rise and see their former realm, They might be ruder still with curses deep. —“Lucio,” in the “Manchester Guardian.”