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committer: Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> 2025-10-14 20:05:02 -0700
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+      The Project Gutenberg eBook of Poems of James McIntyre, by James McIntyre.
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+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Poems of James McIntyre, by James McIntyre
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Poems of James McIntyre
+
+Author: James McIntyre
+
+Release Date: May 9, 2011 [EBook #36068]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POEMS OF JAMES MCINTYRE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Meredith Bach, Leonard Johnson and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
+book was produced from scanned images of public domain
+material from the Google Print project.)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 383px;">
+<img src="images/ifrontis.jpg" width="383" height="433" alt="James McIntyre" title="James McIntyre" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<h1>
+POEMS<br /><br />
+
+<span class="font_1">OF</span><br /><br />
+
+<span class="font_3">JAMES McINTYRE.</span><br /><br />
+</h1>
+
+<hr style="width:40%" />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Fair Canada is our Theme,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&nbsp;Land of rich cheese, milk and cream."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style="width:40%" />
+
+<p class="center">
+INGERSOLL:<br />
+<span class="font_2">PUBLISHED AT THE OFFICE OF THE CHRONICLE.<br />
+1889.</span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+
+
+<p class="center" style="font-size:.5em;">
+Registered, according to Act of Parliament,<br />
+in the year 1884, by<br />
+<br />
+JAMES McINTYRE,<br />
+<br />
+In the Office of the Minister of Agriculture.<br />
+</p>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span></p>
+<h2>TO THE PUBLIC.</h2>
+
+
+<p><span style="float:left;"><img src="images/i_dropw.png" alt="W" title="W" /></span>e received so many kind assurances from friends in this
+neighborhood and from gentlemen at a distance who
+had taken an interest in our first little work, that they
+induce us to issue this more comprehensive volume
+containing about one hundred new pieces. We have written a number
+of dairy odes recently; these and our patriotic songs composed during
+the past year we trust will make the work more interesting. We publish
+a few short pieces from many letters and poems we received from
+friends. We hope the public will peruse the poems in a friendly
+spirit, as a kind feeling towards all of the nationalities forming this
+young and vigorous Dominion has prompted us to publish these selections
+from our poetic works.</p>
+
+<div class="cite">
+<div>JAMES McINTYRE,</div>
+<div class="smcap citation font_2">Ingersoll, Ont.</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span></p>
+<h2>SHORT EXTRACTS FROM POEMS AND LETTERS
+RECEIVED BY THE AUTHOR.</h2>
+
+
+<p>The following lines were received from Mr. William Murray of Hamilton:</p>
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:18em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"In writing you do not pretend<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With Tennysonian themes to blend,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It is an independent style<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Begotten on Canadian soil."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<p>From one of Toronto's well known citizens, S. H. Janes, Esq.,
+formerly of Oxford:</p>
+
+<p>I wish to express to you my great pleasure in looking over your
+musings on the Banks of Canadian Thames. It seemed to transport
+my memory across the chasm of twenty-five years and to call up the
+scenes, associations and joys of boyhood's happy hour. Literary work
+of this kind must add greatly to your pleasure and happiness as it
+certainly does to that of your friends.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<p>The Editor of the Toronto Globe, after reviewing a number of
+other books pronounced our little volume to be the gem of the table.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<p>Col. Denison, Toronto's police magistrate, "found many most interesting
+pieces on Canadian subjects in the volume."</p>
+
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<p>Joaquin Miller, the American poet, hailed me as "my dear poet of
+the Canadian pasture fields," and he said I did wisely in singing of
+useful themes.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="short" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>N. C. Thompson of Rockford, Ill., wrote us a large number of
+verses. We select the following:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Your poem on the Bard of Ayr,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I like the best, I think it rare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An equal love of Burns I share,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And read him oft,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O could I write like him 'twould bear<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My soul aloft."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<p>Dr. Scadding, the Antiquarian, thought my poem on Father
+Rannie, the cheese pioneer, "had the ring of a fine old ballad about it."</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<p>From a poem by the Rev. John Dunbar, of Toronto, we give this
+extract:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">As other duties made demand<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I only got your poems scanned,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Marking the treatment of your pieces<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While wonder and surprise increases,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Assured your book its way will win,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So neat without, so nice within,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Reserving as a promised pleasure<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The thorough reading at my leisure,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Permit me now to each unknown<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To thank you for the kindness shown.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<p>The Hon. Oliver Mowat was pleased with the patriotic spirit
+displayed in the poems.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<p>From George McIntyre of Conestoga:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Surprised, delighted, beyond measure,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I gazed upon the pretty treasure,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And as it gives me such great pleasure,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My thanks I send<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To him who in his hours of leisure<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Those verses penned.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>A. G. Murray, a prominent clansman of Chicago, sent us the
+following:&mdash;I received your volume and I think a great deal of it. It
+is one of our family treasures and the reading of it brings before us the
+genial form of friend McIntyre, who pictures things so vividly, reminding
+us of days gone by.</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+
+<p>From Rev. Robert Cameron of Denver, Colorado:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">My whilom friend dear McIntyre,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Your book of rhymes has come,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Take thanks from all around our fire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For all have said well done;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How many long and toilsome years<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Have passed since first we met,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I was a lad twixt hopes and fears,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And <ins title="A short version of you're?">you'r</ins> a poet yet.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CANADA BEFORE THE CONFEDERATION OF THE
+PROVINCES.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:22em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Canadian provinces they lay<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Divided by river and by bay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Many a separate division,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Among them there was no cohesion.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But statesmen saw that a great nation<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Could be formed by federation,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And soon they led public opinion<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To favor forming this Dominion.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">North-West with its streams and fountains,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With sources in the Rocky Mountains,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It was all a great mystery,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hunting for furs its history.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Though North-West is filling slow<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet soon there will be mighty flow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Millions to North-West will hurry<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In last decade of century.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For therein is an opening grand<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In great fertile prairie land,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For there the choicest wheat it grows<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Near where the Saskatchewan flows.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And on many a river's branch<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There is found great grazing ranch,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Favoured districts therein abound<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where cattle graze all the year round.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Protected from the stormy blast<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By the Rocky Mountains vast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Through canon blows no storm terrific,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But balmy breezes from Pacific.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CANADA'S FUTURE.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:21em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Canada is a young giant,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Has not yet acquired its strength,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On the arts of peace reliant,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Throughout its vast breadth and length.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Though 'tis not famed for orange bowers<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor for the products of its vines,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though other lands have fairer flowers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet it to nobler gifts inclines.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">It doth produce the golden grain<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And few lands can with it compete,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They often try but all in vain<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To produce such splendid wheat.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Our geologists divine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That ere long we will behold<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Many a rich glittering mine<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of copper, silver and of gold.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But we sing more glorious theme,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It is our verdant pasture land,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where cows produce a flood of cream,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Doth make cheese of the finest brand.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And great thoughts oftentimes awakes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When we reflect on this wondrous land,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With vast rivers and mighty lakes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All nature here's on scale so grand.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Young Dominion so gigantic,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where rail cars run at speed terrific,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thousands of miles from the Atlantic,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till in the West you reach Pacific.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">From balmy breezes of lake Erie<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To the far north frozen ocean,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where it now seems lone and dreary,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All will yet be life and motion.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Though nation's young its powerful fleet<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Doth sail on many a distant sea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For world's commerce to compete<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her sails in all climes flowing free.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>BIRTH OF CANADA AS A NATION, JULY FIRST, 1867.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Hail Britannia's noblest daughter,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who is surrounded by the water<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of many a lake and broad sea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Land of beaver and of maple tree.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Her lofty brow is wreathed with smiles,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For from the far Atlantic isles<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In pomp have come their delegates,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All seeking to unite their fates.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">With Canada great northern queen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And now throughout the land is seen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">High festival and stately dance,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Triumphant nuptials to advance.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And soon shall Red River valley<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And distant Vancouver rally,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To form this Empire gigantic<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From Pacific to Atlantic.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span></p>
+<h2>WELCOME TO THE PRINCE OF WALES.</h2>
+
+<p class="center">Lines written when the Prince of Wales was about embarking
+for Canada, May, 1860.</p>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In his long voyage o'er the sea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To where doth grow the maple tree,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">May he be blest with pleasant gales,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The coming man, the Prince of Wales.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The maple grows but in good soil,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where nature doth reward for toil<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The farmer splitting his fence rails,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He welcome bids the Prince of Wales.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In the woods the axe is ringing<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the yeoman merry singing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The song resounds o'er hills and dales,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our future king the Prince of Wales.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Round the brow of our future chief<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We'll weave a wreath of maple leaf,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For o'er broad Canada prevails<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Kind feelings to the Prince of Wales.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When in this land the Prince arrives,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">May he have many pleasant drives,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And on our lakes have merry sails,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Great king of princes, Prince of Wales.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CANADA'S RESOURCES.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:22em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Small Scotland nobly held its own<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Against the might of England's throne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And shall this land with its vast bounds<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shrink with fear ere the trumpet sounds.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">While British blood doth course each vein,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Proudly this heritage maintain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With fertile acres by the billions,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Future homes for two hundred millions.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Each son could have a fertile farm,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Brave men who ne'er will feel alarm,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And they have both the nerve and skill<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To work land with a right good will.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And she has got within her shores<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Renowned mines of many ores,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While her furnaces and forges<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Iron in useful shape disgorges.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Her mighty forests they do yield<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lumber, her cities for to build,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But her wealth is not in these alone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She has great quarries too of stone.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Industry it here doth bloom,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And skilful webs come from each loom,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One of great nations under sun,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A mightier race it yet will run.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For with the Anglo-Saxon race<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No other people can keep pace,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here they have room for to expand<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Into a nation mighty grand.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">With great railroads and canals,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And care in legislative halls,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A mighty future she will gain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And highest rank she will obtain.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Canada hopes it will be told,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That she hath patriots brave and bold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To guide her helm shall be extolled,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As loving country more than gold.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>NORTH-WEST REBELLION, 1885.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:22em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Hail Canada our young fair land,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The world's respect it doth command;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How quick her sons at war's alarms<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sprang to her rescue with their arms.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In Canada the English rose,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The shamrock and the thistle grows,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">United garland they combine<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Around the maple tree to twine.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">They did march a brave gallant host<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From the far East Atlantic coast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our Canada so proud and free,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Four thousand miles from sea to sea.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Though skilful rebels did entrench,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But their deadly fires our boys did quench,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And victory it soon was won<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By our General Middleton.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And Colonel Williams left a name<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For Canada's temple of fame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A kind and a brave hearted man<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In hour of danger led the van.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The ninetieth regiment it fought well,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Winnipeg doth its glories tell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">London boasts of her volunteers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For she prides in her Fusiliers.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Toronto troops have gained renown,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And triumph their quick march did crown,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For the relief of Battleford,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And scattering of the Indian horde.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Our volunteers took up their arms,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each left his home and all its charms;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though many they were tender reared,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No frost nor snow nor foe they feared.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Alas that youth so true and brave,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So many now do fill a grave,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And others they are maimed for life,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While engaged in glorious strife.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We have sprung from a good brave stock,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rose, thistle and the shamrock,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who all in unity agree,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Neath the shade of the maple tree.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The Indians soon came to grief,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Under their great Poundmaker chief,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Toronto troops gained fame<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Otter glory to his name.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We all felt proud of our gunboat<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the brave crew of the Northcote,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And of our scouts who captured Riel,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who in vain for mercy did appeal.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And may all quickly come to grief<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who do not love the maple leaf,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For they spring from a noble tree,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shades this land of the brave and free.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span></p>
+<h2>BIG BEAR THE INDIAN CHIEF.</h2>
+
+<p class="center">The following impromptu was given at a banquet to one of
+the captives of Fort Pit after he had related his experience.</p>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:21em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Sad memories it doth awake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The death of those fell at Frog Lake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And trials of captives of Fort Pit<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When savages did capture it.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But soon Generals Strange and Steel<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Made savage hordes their power to feel,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And they rescued women fair<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From the paws of the Big Bear.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Captives for days had naught to eat<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But steaks of tough and lean dog meat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In daily danger of their lives<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From bullets and from scalping knives.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When building big lodge for war dance,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The cry is heard, the troops advance,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To the white captives sounds so sweet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But savages they quick retreat.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A thrilling tale our guest<a name="FNanchor_A_1" id="FNanchor_A_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_1" class="fnanchor">[A]</a> did tell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That close to him fell bursting shell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This shot it was not fired in vain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For several savages were slain.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Our bold troops great danger braved,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So that white captives might be saved,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who suffered hunger, cold and damp,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Mong savage hordes in bush and swamp.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Big Bear now they have pared his claws,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He must atone for broken laws,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Far away from his native lair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In prison strong they put Big Bear.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a name="Footnote_A_1" id="Footnote_A_1"></a>
+<a href="#FNanchor_A_1"><span class="label">[A]</span></a>
+<span class="smcap"> Mr. Stanley Simpson.</span></p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span></p>
+<h2>REMINISCENCES</h2>
+
+<p>On the laying of the corner stone of the Brock monument at Queenston
+Heights, and the final interment of the General who had fallen at
+the battle of Queenston, Oct. 13th, 1812. The remains of his Aide,
+Col. McDonald, were also deposited under the new tower.</p>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:23em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A wail went o'er broad Canada,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When it was known a vile outlaw<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Had at midnight's awful hour,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With ruffian hand blown up the tower.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">'Neath which had slept the gallant Brock<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who bravely fell on Queenston's rock,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But graceful column soon shall rise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Its beauteous shaft will kiss the skies.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For from Queenston's woody height<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You may behold a pleasing sight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The grim old veterans of the war,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Militiamen with many a scar.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Indian braves from each nation,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Grouped to pay their last ovation,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Round the remains of General Brock,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who led them oft in battle's shock.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Old heroes now again do rally,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Feebly they move along the valley,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Not as they rushed in days of yore<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When torrent like they onward bore.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And swept away the foeman's ranks<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O'er Niagara's rugged banks,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So indignant was their grief<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On losing of their warrior chief.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Now with triumphant funeral car,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Adorned with implements of war,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The sad procession slow ascends,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As round the hill its way it wends.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Marching to mournful, solemn note,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While grand old flags around it float,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And now may peace be never broken<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Mong lands where Saxon tongue is spoken.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"For peace hath victories by far<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">More glorious than horrid war,"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">England doth Longfellow revere,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And America loves Shakespeare.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>The oration on the above interesting occasion was delivered by the late
+Hon. William H. Merritt, projector of the Welland Canal. He served
+at the battle when a young man. We witnessed the interesting ceremony
+and shall never forget it.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>PATRIOTIC ODE</h2>
+
+<p class="center">Written at the time of the last excitement on the Niagara Frontier.</p>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Rejoice, rejoice, we all do stand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">United in one mighty band;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No traitors in our land we find,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All one in heart, all one in mind;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Resolute in their opinion,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">None shall conquer our Dominion;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For every man with dauntless mien<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will rally round our flag and Queen.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span></p>
+<h2>PROVINCE OF ONTARIO.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:22em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In the land of woods and lakes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Pure happiness each one partakes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who is sound in body and in mind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And to industry is inclined.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Here in great lakes we do take pride,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And them with Uncle Sam divide,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Other lakes seem inferior<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In size to great Superior.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And Canadians do take pride,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In Huron's wide expanded tide,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But it onward flows forever,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Through St. Clair lake and river.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But soon again it doth expand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Into Erie's lake so grand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then behold its wondrous charms,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When embraced in Niagara's arms.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then it more blessings doth bestow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On pure bosom of Ontario,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Round it our towns and cities cluster,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O'er it Toronto sheds her lustre.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And Ontario doth awake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The thought that 'tis our favorite lake;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Several states approach Lake Erie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each one claiming it for dearie.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But our fires of love do glow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Alone for Lake Ontario,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our love for it is so unbounded,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We have almost it surrounded.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And the lands around its beaches,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They are famed for grapes and peaches,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Mong choicest fruits you ramble on<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From Niagara to Hamilton.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ontario North is land of pines,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A land of lakes and rocks and mines,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And beneath dark pine tree shade,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How happy is the youth and maid.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For here in summer you keep cool,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And fish for trout in sparkling pool,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For pike or salmon you can spear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in the season hunt the deer.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In great northern hunting ground,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where both fish and game abound,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And verdant pastures here are seen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where cattle graze 'mong sweetest green.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In the far north a land of pines,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in the south we have the vines,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where each year adds into the charms,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Surrounds the homesteads on the farms.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Nature our province doth endow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With hardy sons to guide the plow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In south we have the fruitful soil,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where nature's bounties on us smile.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We have got rich plains and highlands,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ontario hath thousand islands,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And there is a great array<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of charming isles on Georgian Bay.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And travellers all they do adore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The lovely isles near Huron's shore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Superior makes a grand display,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All round her shores to Thunder Bay.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Muskoka's famed for woods and brakes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For rocks and meadows and clear lakes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And sportsmen for it proudly claim<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That 'tis a land for fish and game.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There doth arise a sweet aroma<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From great spruce forests of Algoma,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And from the poplar, birch and pine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There too is wealth in many a mine.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">It may be that of mines the best,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will be found in Ontario West,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Stretching towards the interior,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Three hundred miles west of Superior.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Essex is our sunny south,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At the Detroit river's mouth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There the sun doth cheerful smile<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On the grape vineyards of Pelee Isle.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Pioneer's axe it now doth ring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On the shores of Nipissing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And some do locate claims away<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To distant north around James' Bay.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CANADIAN RIVERS AND LAKES.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We have here a sight as fair<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As bonnie Doon or banks of Ayr,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like modest worth meandering slow<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The quiet waters gently flow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rose, thistle, shamrock, all combine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Around the maple leaf to twine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose outstretched arms so gigantic<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Clasp Pacific and Atlantic,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Embracing lakes like burnished gold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With joy a Shakespeare might behold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For either Poet Burns or Moore<a name="FNanchor_B_2" id="FNanchor_B_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_B_2" class="fnanchor">[B]</a><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Such scenery they would adore.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_B_2" id="Footnote_B_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_B_2"><span class="label">[B]</span></a> Tom Moore paddled his own canoe along the Canadian shore of Lake
+Erie and was enraptured with the view. He landed and remained over
+night at a farm house. His Canadian Boat Song is immortal.</p></div>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>NIAGARA DRY.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:22em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">It happened once in early spring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While there did float great thick ice cakes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That then a gale did quickly bring<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Them all down from the upper lakes.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And from Buffalo to Lake Erie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Across the entrance to river,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It was a scene of icebergs dreary,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Those who saw will remember ever.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then gale blew up lake and river,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And left Niagara almost dry,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This a lady did discover<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As above the Falls she cast her eye.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Such scene it had been witnessed never,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Since Israelites crossed the Red Sea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When they had resolved forever<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From Pharaoh's bondage to flee.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Lady she resolved to venture,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Proudly carrying British flag,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Erecting it in river's centre<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In crevice of a rocky crag.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">It seems like a romance by Bulwer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How she captured Niagara,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But it was seen by Bishop Fuller,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who did at sight of flag hurrah.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ten thousand years may die away<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Before another dry can tread,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In bottom of Niagara,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For she doth jealous guard her bed.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But ice her entrance did blockade,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And wind it kept the waters back,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So that a child could almost wade<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Across the brink of cataract.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>UNITED BY STEEL RAILS.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When Indian tribes in the Northwest<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rebelled against the Eastern laws,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Canadian courage it did test,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All were united in the cause.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But how shall volunteers proceed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Such distance, several thousand miles,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will they in their dark hour of need<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ask Uncle Sam with pleasant smiles<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For to allow our volunteers<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To pass o'er their north railroad,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Perhaps subject to doubts and fears,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where British soldiers never trod.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But there went up a glad hurrah<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When it was found that in our land,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Almost finished was railway,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And trains do wait for word command,<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">To bear away our volunteers<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To those far North distant lands,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But dispelled were all their fears<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When they rode over those steel bands,<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Which bound young nation all in one,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Before detached and all apart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shoulder to shoulder now each one<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Feels patriot feelings in his heart,<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">First time we truly realize<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The value of this great railway,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Its benefits each now doth prize,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Highway to Japan and Australia.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The policy it has proved wise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which did build this great railway,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The vast Northwest to colonize,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And bear its products far away.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Canadian flags are now unfurled<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the ports of the Chinese,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Short route to Oriental world<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gives Canada her cheap fine teas.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span></p>
+<h2>LORNE AND LOUISE.</h2>
+
+<p class="center">Lines written on the arrival of Governor Lorne and the Princess Louise
+in Canada.</p>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:22em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The tidings now all hearts do please,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That she has landed safe, Louise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Victoria's beloved daughter,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who boldly has crossed the water,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For royal Princess doth adorn<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The title of the Lord of Lorne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For this union it doth join<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Campbell with Royal Stewart line;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lorne will be Duke of broad Argyle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the Lord of many an Isle.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When he inherits broad domain<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">May he strive tenants hearts to gain.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To us it seems a brighter morn<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hath dawned on us with Governor Lorne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And when they visited this place<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">True happiness beamed on each face,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The first white child who here was born<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Presented was to Governor Lorne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From Forest 'ere it was reclaimed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our fine town after him was named.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CANADIAN SPORTS AND GAMES AND PLAYS.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:23em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Burns sang of joys of Hallowe'en<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But in Canada is often seen<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By far more jolly times than these<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At logging raising, paring bees,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For here the youth is not afraid<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To trip it with a pretty maid,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For this at night is his reward<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For working at the bee so hard,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And oft times till the break of day<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At forfeits they will merry play,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For he doth win e'en though he miss,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If from sweet lass he gets a kiss,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But in its place doth justly prize<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His tea and cakes and pumpkin pies.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When winter comes it brings no gloom<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But makes fresh pleasures spring and bloom,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For when the youth longs for a bride<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He gives his girl a grand sleigh ride,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which to them both doth pleasures bring<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While merry sleigh bells cheery ring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And with the fair maid of his choice<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He graceful skates with her on ice,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Charming mode of locomotion<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gliding o'er a polished ocean,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Such joys they soon do love evolve,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And they on union do resolve,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He is happy with his chosen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For warm love gets never frozen.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And young folks oft they do take pride,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How swift they down the hill can glide,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And they bravely dare the frost king<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So they may enjoy the coasting,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each striving for to lead the van<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the swift shooting toboggan.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And on the ice men love to hurl<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The polished blocks to skilful curl,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And curlers all do proudly claim<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their's is a manly healthy game,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in Canadians you trace<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A generous, hardy and brave race.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And brilliant as a fairy hall<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is scenes on ice at carnival,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Before the gale in an ice boat<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It swiftly o'er the ice doth float,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The sensation is you fly<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like lightning shooting through the sky.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In summer time the youth do toss<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The baseball and do play lacrosse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And tradition doth for it claim<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That 'tis an ancient Indian game,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And if a foe invade we can,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Drive them back with clubs Canadian.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span></p>
+<h2>NIAGARA'S CHARMS AND DEATH OF WEBB.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:21em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Gazing on rapids mighty sea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Struggling fiercely to be free,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But drawn downwards in its course<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By gravitation's wondrous force,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O'er those perpendicular walls,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hurled 'mong mighty rocks it falls,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Causing the earth to throb and shake<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like to the tremor of earthquake.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thus the world's greatest wonder<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Reverberates like peals of thunder,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Enshrined with mist and beauteous glow<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of varied tints of the rainbow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Most glorious sight the human eye<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hath ever seen beneath the sky,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Along these banks none ever trod<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But did feel grateful to his God,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For lavishing with bounteous hand<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Glories majestic and so grand.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The foaming billows soon are seen<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Transformed into a beauteous green,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Plunged by whirlpools dread commotion<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It becomes a seething ocean,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where furies join in surging dance<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From centre to circumference,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This is the favorite abode<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of Neptune, mightiest sea God,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He hath decreed none shall survive<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who will into this vortex dive.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Webb swam the English channel brave,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like seabird he did love to lave<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His breast upon the mightiest wave,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Alas, found here a watery grave;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Torrent onward rushes frantic<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On its course to the Atlantic,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But on its way doth gently flow<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Through blue lake Ontario,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rejoicing on its way it smiles,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Kissing the shores of Thousand Isles,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mingling with <ins title="Original spelling.">St. Lawrance</ins> motion,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It soon is blended with the ocean.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>DEPARTED STATESMEN.</h2>
+
+
+<p class="center">With a glance at Sir John A. Macdonald and Blake, the two living leaders, 1884.</p>
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:23em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Joseph Howe, none higher stood than thou,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou wert a man with lofty brow;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">D'Arcy McGee, so brilliant and free,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From green isle you came o'er the sea.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">George Cartier to the French ever dear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So high you stood without a peer;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">John Sandfield for long you did build<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Power under economy's shield.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">George Brown, thou man of renown,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Confederation you did crown;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You now are all free from the strife<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The wrangle and jangle of political life.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But if a glance at this world you take<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You will there see John A. and Blake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But Sir John the greatest power doth wield,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our Canadian Beaconsfield.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span></p>
+<h2>THE OLD SNAKE FENCE.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:22em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In early times the pioneer<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When a few acres he did clear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He found 'an ample recompense<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For splitting rails and making fence.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Though it was crooked as a snake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And zigzag style did not awake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He thought it was a thing of beauty,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet in its day it did its duty.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And though the old snake fence must fall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Twas easy made, axe, wedge and maul,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Were all the tools the pioneer<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Required the old rail fence to rear.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And the old pioneer could boast<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of fence that did not need a post,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To build it now is waste of timber,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And fertile lands it doth cumber.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And pine stump fence with its sharp roots<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will long endure and ward off brutes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For the crops they ample shield<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And do protect each separate field.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But old style fence doth waste much land,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where weeds do grow and bush expand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And thistle down doth blow from thence,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So folks build wire and the board fence.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CANADIAN VOYAGEURS ON THE NILE.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:22em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The British soldiers on the Nile<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With gratitude did kindly smile,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On the Canadian voyageurs<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who skilfully did ply their oars.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And they invoked their benison<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On boatsmen led by Denison,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Neither the rapids nor the falls<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Along the Nile these braves appals.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For in such toils they did partake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On each native stream and lake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thoughts of their homes in visions throng,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While singing Canadian boat song.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And they all hoped again to see<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The glorious land of maple tree,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From their memories they never<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Forgot the land of lake and river.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">While up the Nile they do advance<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They dream about their own St. Lawrence,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Manitoba's streams and lakes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Pleasant reflections oft awakes.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And thus each day they cheerful toil,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ascending of old Father Nile,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose waters fertilize the soil,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And is the home of crocodile.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Wolseley he had exhibition<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In Red River expedition,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How these voyageurs could steer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or with the axe a roadway clear.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Those who speak the tongue of France,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From the banks of the St. Lawrence,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At call to arms quick advance,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With rifle, bayonet and lance.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span></p>
+<h2>LAND CLEARING.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The first winter which I did spend<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In Canada was with a friend,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And when the snow had passed away<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Quite early in the month of May.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Friend started off for a barn raising,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And told me to get stumps ablazing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Around each stump I heaped a pile<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of roots and junks of wood so vile.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For he wished the field to clear<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So it a crop of wheat would rear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And there was one high withered pine<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which was full of turpentine.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">As soon as I applied the torch,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Blaze quick did start and it did scorch<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The fences, and the woods were nigh,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For the old tree it blazed on high.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I was the only man or boy<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Near there that day and found employ<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In saving of the house and barn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thus early fire fiend did me warn.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Fire started and with it a breeze<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Carried the sparks 'mong leaves of trees,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I did work hard but for recompense<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All was saved but a few rails of fence.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Man in spring logging oft awakes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From winter slumbers nests of snakes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And listens to the music grand<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of bull frogs, our Canadian band.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span></p>
+<h2>LINES READ AT A MAPLE SUGAR SOCIAL, APRIL, 1888.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:22em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Our first Canadian job when boy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the big woods we did enjoy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Large maple bush we then did tap<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And to camp carried maple sap.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We stored it in great wooden trough,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then in big kettles sugared off,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though often it did try our mettle<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To keep up fire beneath each kettle.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For it was a serious toil<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To cut the wood to kettles boil,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To-night it is a pleasant joke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No trouble from the fire and smoke.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Of old we thought our neck was broke<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By having on it a neckyoke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And on each side a heavy pail<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Suspended from the yoke by bail.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We waded through the snow and slush<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And stumbled o'er the logs in bush,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But no doubt the maple's sweeter<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Than any other thing in meter.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Unless it is the lips of lass,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which maple sugar doth surpass,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And may it be each young man's fate<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For to secure a charming mate.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For birds will soon begin to sing<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And seek their mates in early spring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When found each pair do feel they're blest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When they have finished their warm nest.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Let none at sugar making scoff,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Webster was rocked in a sap trough;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When boiling sap it is quite handy<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To pour some in snow to make candy.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CANADIAN ROMANCE.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:24em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">An English youth to Canada came,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A labourer, John Roe by name,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His little wealth had made him bold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Twenty sovereigns in gold;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He was industrious and wise<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And e'en small sums did not despise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He added to his wealth each year<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For independence he loved dear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He knew a laborer he would be<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Forever in the old country,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His forefathers had tilled the ground<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And never one had saved a pound.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On beds of down they did not lie<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And frugally their goods did buy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their one luxury around their door<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A few choice flowers their garden bore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But never hoped to own the soil<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But serve as hinds to sweat and toil,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To work and toil for him had charm<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He hoped some day to own a farm,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So he hired with Reuben Tripp<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The wealthiest man in the township.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tripp's only child, his daughter Jane,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He sought her love and not in vain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As Jacob served for Rachel dear<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So John he served year after year,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till rich enough to buy bush farm<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For to chop down with his strong arm.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The truest nobleman of all<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He lives not in ancestral hall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But sheltereth family from harm<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By logs rolled up by his strong arm,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In this young glorious land so free<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where each may rear his own roof tree,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the chief glory of old days<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Broad fire place where big logs did blaze,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As much as four strong men could handle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They served alike for heat and candle;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He his young oxen did adorn<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With fine gay ribbons on each horn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And to his home with joy and pride<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He did bring sweet blooming bride,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Such happiness is seldom seen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Happier far than king or queen;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She helped him in the fields to reap,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And spun the wool from off the sheep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All they required they had for both,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of her own weaving of good cloth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And she was a good tailoress,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Did make his coat and her own dress;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The golden butter that she made<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Was of the very finest grade,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each grace and virtue she possess'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where'er she was, that spot was blessed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And though they did not have stove then,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Neither did they own an oven;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She filled large pot with well knead dough<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And baked fine bread 'mong embers glow;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He each winter the forest trees<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Did quickly hew them down with ease,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For he to work had a desire<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the skill did soon acquire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But round great giants hewed a ring<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then storms would soon them prostrate bring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For many a time the furious breeze<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Would quick o'erthrow the girdled trees,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And sometimes they would kill the cows<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When they did feed on grass or browse,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But after reckoning damage all<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A benefit was each windfall;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though good fortune now he sees<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Might have been got from Walnut trees;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But trees were foes in his hurry,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All were slain, both oak and cherry,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And to this day he doth incline<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To mourn o'er slaughter of the pine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And reflects how he did o'erwhelm<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Many a maple, beech and elm;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And each summer day did toil<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With his steers drawing logs in pile;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">These giants of the forest dead,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fire did reduce to an ash bed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And soon potatoes, wheat and corn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They did the rugged stumps adorn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Jane did help him with the hoe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And well she did keep her row:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No organs then they had to play,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But she could work and sing all day;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In spring he did live maples tap<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To draw from them the luscious sap,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He gathered it in big log trough,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then boiled it down and sugared off,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Enough the household for to cheer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With all its sweets for the whole year,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And no such thing those times were seen<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As the swift raising stump machine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And where main road was low and damp<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With logs he built a road through swamp,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But a smooth ride could not enjoy<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While it was naught but corduroy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each year added earth and gravel,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now smoothly o'er they can travel,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For it doth make an excellent road<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For John and Jane to go abroad,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And it is now a great highway<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where hundreds travel every day.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There were no roads in early days<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But bridle path, their guide the blaze,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And mills and marts so far away,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They never could return same day;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Log school house served as church for all,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of various creeds, and for town hall.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">These scenes to youth do now seem strange<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So wondrous quick hath been the change,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O'er paths where oxen only trod,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cows quickly speed o'er the railroad,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And every way both up and down<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There has sprung up a thriving town.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No more he fights with forest trees,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But both enjoy their wealth and ease,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Long since the old folks both are gone<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And left the whole to Jane and John;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The log house now has passed away<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With all its chinks filled in with clay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in its place fine house of stone<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With lawn where choice shrubs are grown.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With sons and daughters they are blest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The young men say they'll move Northwest;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This gives their mother some alarm,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She wants them still on the home farm,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But father will not have them tarry<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They can plow so quick on prairie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And they find coal makes a good fire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And build their fences of barbed wire<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They would not be forever gone<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As they could talk by telephone.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>We have been congratulated by many on the truthfulness of the
+Romance of Canada. They declare it is not a romance but a true picture
+of rise and progress of worthy people in Canada.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span></p>
+<h2>LAMENT OF THE MAPLE TREE.</h2>
+
+<p class="center">A VISION.</p>
+
+<p class="center">"We had a dream which was not all a dream."&mdash;Byron.</p>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:21em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I laid me down one day in June,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It was late long afternoon,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A very sultry summer's eve,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Such times the senses oft deceive,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The place was 'neath a maple tree,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Soon from all cares and troubles free,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By a gentle, kindly slumber,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No more our sorrows we could number,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But we heard a plaintive wail<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Such as we find in fairy tale,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It was the genius of the tree<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who in sad guise appeared to me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And then she sadly did give vent<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unto this awful grave lament:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though I am gay in month of June,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All decked in green, yet very soon,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Alas my beauty will be faded<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And my charms be all degraded,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For is my time of glory brief,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So often flattered is my leaf.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In Canada so broad and free<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All poets sing of the maple tree,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">High I stand in their opinion,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Emblem of the New Dominion,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The reason I do them upbraid<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some never slept beneath my shade,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And yet they take the liberty<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To chant about the maple tree,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They dare to poetise my leaf,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This is the source of all my grief,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I think their praises all so rude<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And as but base ingratitude,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So often hackneyed is my name<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That every fall I burn with shame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like maiden's cheek which blushes red<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When vain rash youth asks her to wed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then do these foolish ones descry<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In me fresh beauty and they sigh,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And then renew their songs of praise.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But unto me how sad their lays,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For then I know my days are brief,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Tis hectic flush upon my leaf;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">True poets then should mournful sing<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When the destroyer's on the wing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For then I know my leaves of gold<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will all soon mingle with the mould,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No one does ever think to praise<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The fell destroyer when he slays,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">None rejoice in the flushed cheek<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When the poor girl is low and weak,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Perhaps they'll say and it is true<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In spring my glories I'll renew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But 'tis poor comfort after all<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To lose my offspring every fall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Small consolation to mother<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To tell her that soon another<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will replace her fond darling boy<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who has been source of all her joy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But you know all about my wood<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You know that it is strong and good,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And I have full many a curl<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And pleasing eye and charming nurl,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some love me as fond nature grained<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And some prefer my beauty stained,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But my dear friend I hope that you<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My varied shades love pure and true,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For of the woods you know the staple<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Stoutest and best is good maple,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The youth my sugar eat with glee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And old maids love me in their tea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In me do various uses meet<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In summer shade, in winter heat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For I do make a glorious blaze<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All worthy of the poet's lays,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But to their praises I'll be deaf<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If more they harp about my leaf.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They call me gay when I am sober<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To me 'tis gloomy month October,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But saints on earth when they die<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hope for true bliss beyond the sky,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So winter does bring no alarms<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though it strip bare my trunk and arms,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For now I know that time will bring<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">More glorious foliage in the spring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then all nature will rejoice<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Triumphing with glorious voice,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And birds will in my branches sing<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hosannas to the lovely spring.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>The nurls and birds' eyes and curls were highly prized in furniture
+thirty years ago, when we used the smooth <ins title="Original spelling.">plain</ins>.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span></p>
+<h2>LIFE IN THE WOODS.</h2>
+
+<p class="center">(Life of the early settlers.)</p>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:21em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Canada hath wealthy yeomen<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose fathers overcome the foemen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The enemy they boldly slew<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Was mighty forests they did hew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And where they burned heaps of slain<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their sons now reap the golden grain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But in the region of Northwest<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With prairie farms they are blest.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though this to them it may seem good<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet many blessings come from wood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It shelters you from the fierce storm<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in the winter keeps you warm,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For one who hath his forest trees<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He builds his house and barn with ease,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And how quick he gets from thence<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Timber for bridge and for his fence.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span></p>
+<h2>THE JOYS OF PRAIRIE FARMERS 1884.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:21em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We let Ontario farmers sing<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">About the joys the woods do bring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But we in regions of Northwest<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Do think prairie farms the best,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For those poor men who swing the axe<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On their strength 'tis a heavy tax,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For several years they naught can grow<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While from the first we plow and sow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And while we plow we don't get thumps<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By running it against the stumps,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And where wild Buffalo now doth feed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There very soon they'll sow the seed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where Indian wigwams now do stand<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will be the site of cities grand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And where the deer and wolf doth roam<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Millions will build each happy home,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So quick as if by magic wand<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They will arise o'er the whole land,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But this one fact we won't deny<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ontario she can supply,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For so skilfully she doth invent<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each agricultural implement.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CANADA OUR HOME, 1883.</h2>
+
+
+<p>The following response to Canada our home was given at a banquet
+of the Caledonian Society, Ingersoll:</p>
+
+<p>In responding to the sentiment Canada our home perhaps it would
+be appropriate to point out the prominent and distinguishing characteristics
+between the land of our nativity and the land of our adoption.
+In this Canada of ours we have no bonny blooming heath, no banks
+and braes covered o'er with daisies and gowans, no fragrant hedges
+showering down white spray in the May time, no whin and broom
+prodigal in their gaiety of yellow flowers, no hills nor glens where
+fairies gambol in pleasant and harmless sport, no grand ruins of ancient
+cathedrals and castles, no feathered songsters like the mavis and
+blackbird.</p>
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:17em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Full oft we did enraptured hark<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To heavenly song of the skylark.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>But Canada is a young giant in its infancy with the noblest chain
+of lakes in the world on its frontier, and the most magnificent river
+the St. Lawrence. This land also possesses the largest fertile wilderness
+on the globe, but it is one which will ere many years have passed
+away, blossom like a garden, and where naught but grass and flowers
+now grow in wild luxuriance. Soon the husbandman will plow and
+sow and reap a rich reward in yellow golden grain. Domestic cattle
+quiet will graze where now the Buffalos roam and in spots now covered
+o'er with Indian wigwams, where white men never trod cities will<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span>
+occupy their sites with busy trade and millions flock from eastern lands
+to take possession of the great Northwest. Then Winnipeg perchance
+may be the capital of the Dominion. In the day foretold when this indeed
+shall be the "Greater Britain" with Ontario's towns for workshops
+for this vast prairie land.</p>
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:27em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then poets will arise and high their lays will soar,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Worthy of the muse of a Burns or a Moore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A Shakespeare and a Milton, the great and the wise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will sing of the glories of our northern skies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of its lakes and rivers and its mountains grand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of its fertile plains and great prairie land,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A fit theme for song this empire gigantic,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose arms stretch from Pacific to Atlantic.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>LINES ON VIOLETS.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Once, while digging 'neath the snow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Mid Canadian winter, lo!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To our joy and surprise<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We saw some violets in full bloom,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gazing at us with loving eyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thanking us for opening their tomb,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet still they seemed so cozy and nice<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Enshrined in the crystal ice,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While all else were drooping dead<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gaily they held up their head.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CANADIAN CHARMS.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Here industry is not in vain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For we have bounteous crops of grain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And you behold on every field<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of grass and roots abundant yield,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But after all the greatest charm<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is the snug home upon the farm,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And stone walls now keep cattle warm.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>DONALD ROSS.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:17em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">By the side of a moss<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lived young Donald Ross,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Among the heathery hills<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the mountain rills,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In a snug little cot<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Content with his lot<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He never knew sorrow<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With his wife and wee Flora.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But an order went forth<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O'er the land of the north,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To burn many a home<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So the wild deer might roam,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With grief he then did toss<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Every night Donald Ross,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And sad seemed the morrow<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For his wife and sma' Flora.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">O it was a cruel deed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But nobles do not heed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The sorrows of the poor<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Drove on a barren moor,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where he wove a wreath<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of the blooming heath,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For to crown with glory<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The brow of little Flory.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He then bade farewell<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To his mountain dell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where his fathers appears<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Had lived a thousand years,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With their few goats and sheep<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which feed on hills so steep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O it was a sad story<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For bonnie little Flory.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He sought a distant strand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In Canada bought land,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To him a glorious charm<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To view his own broad farm,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His horses and his cows,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cultivators and plows,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And now his daughter Flora<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She is the flower of Zorra.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>PATRIOT FIGHTING FOR HIS HOME.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">On the shores of the northern lakes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An infant giant now awakes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He has long time been in a dream,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But now is roused by engine's scream.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For mighty spirits are abroad<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Traversing of each great railroad,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For it is a glorious theme<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The peaceful conquest made by steam.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But should the foot of invader vile<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ever desecrate his soil,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He firm will meet him bold and brave<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And give him soil Canadian grave.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span></p>
+<h2>FIGHTING FOR CONQUEST.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">'Tis noble for to fight for home,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But some nations fight to plunder,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For conquest o'er the world to roam,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To tear peaceful lands asunder.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For to give wealth and a great name<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To some aspiring commander,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who wishes to acquire great fame<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As a modern Alexander.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Statesmen and kings a war will wage,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And many thousands strew the plain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Covered with gore in the carnage,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where brave and noble men are slain.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Leaving their families to mourn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now who can soothe the ills of life,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To them they never shall return,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No one can now cheer the poor wife.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Or the sweet little orphans dear<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Think of father and of mother,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of sweetheart, sister and of brother,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who oft will shed the fruitless tear.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CANADIAN AUTHORS.</h2>
+
+<h3>MRS. MOODY.</h3>
+
+<p>In giving a glance at various Canadian authors perhaps it would
+be well to commence with that early writer Mrs. Moody. She was a
+sister of the celebrated Agnes Strickland, author of "The Queens of
+England."</p>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When this country it was woody,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Its great champion Mrs. Moody,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Showed she had both pluck and push<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In her work roughing in the bush.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For there alone she did dwell<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At time McKenzie did rebel,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Outbreak her husband strove to quell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her own grand struggles she doth tell.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Round bush life she threw a glory,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Pioneer renowned in story,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But her tale it is more cheering<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When she wrote about the clearing.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Her other sister Mrs. Traill<a name="FNanchor_C_3" id="FNanchor_C_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_C_3" class="fnanchor">[C]</a><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though eighty-seven she doth not fail,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She now is writing of wild flowers<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Grown in Canada's woody bowers.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_C_3" id="Footnote_C_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_C_3"><span class="label">[C]</span></a> Mrs. Traill lives near Peterboro. Mrs. Moody died in Toronto. I
+sent her a copy of my poems in 1885, and she thanked me for the
+same through a friend as she was in feeble health at the time.</p></div>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span></p>
+<h3>T. D. MCGEE.</h3>
+
+<p>Having been kindly invited as a member of the Mechanics' Institute
+some 25 years ago by the late Jeremiah O'Neill, Esq., to meet that
+gentleman in company with a number of our townsmen, when Mr.
+McGee was rising from the table the chair being new stuck to him,
+and it being near a general election he very wittily remarked that he
+hoped the people of Montreal would be as anxious to retain him in his
+seat as the people here are. We wrote the following lines at the time,
+the last verse was added afterwards.</p>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:17em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><ins title="As in original; D'Arcy elsewhere.">D Arcy</ins> McGee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All compliment thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The hope of the land<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On your lecture so grand.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Though that is your forte,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh give us the sport<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of an hour of your chat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then we'll laugh and grow fat.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For none but the vile<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Could 'ere cease to smile,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When near to thee<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So brilliant and free.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Plant of green Erin's isle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Long in Canadian soil,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">May you take deep root<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And bear much noble fruit.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Our hopes were in vain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Alas he is slain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By a crankish hand<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The flower of the land.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span></p>
+<h3>GEORGE MENZIES' POEMS, 1883.</h3>
+
+<p>About one third of a century ago there flourished in Canada three
+Scottish editors, all of whom were poets, McQueen of the Huron Signal,
+Goderich, who wrote a grand song on "Our Broad Lake," and McGeorge
+of the Streetsville Review. The following lines are on George Menzies
+who was a Woodstock editor.</p>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:22em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">One day while passing 'long the road<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On a small book we almost trod,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Its leaves were scattered o'er the ground,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We picked them up and when we found<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The author's name, it did inspire<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Us with a very strong desire<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To read the little volume through,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For most of it to us was new.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He doth sing of land of heather<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Canadian scenes together,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He did adore Niagara's roar<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where mighty flood o'er fall doth pour.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But poets lives are often brief<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And he had his full share of grief,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which to his life did gloom impart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But he bore up with his brave heart.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<p class="center">Lines sent to Thomas Conant of Oshawa, a writer of Canadian sketches</p>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We do greet thee Thomas Conant,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You truthful paint Canadian charms,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And you are the great exponent<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of beauties of her woods and farms.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">You give fine sketch of bird and fowl,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of the blue jay and the plover,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And of great white Canadian owl,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All proves of nature you're a lover.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span></p>
+<h3>ROBERT FLEMING GOURLEY.</h3>
+
+<p>Robert F. Gourley was a graduate of St. Andrew's University,
+Scotland. He was the first to agitate for popular rights in Canada.
+He was banished from the country and while crossing the Niagara
+River he asked for a brush to wipe Canadian dust from his feet.
+He became a champion of popular rights in England and he whipped
+Lord Brougham in the lobby of the House of Commons, for which
+breach of privilege he was sentenced by the House. Mr. Gourley
+owned several farms in Oxford, Ontario, and sought to represent South
+Oxford in 1858, but Dr. Connor, an uncle of Hon. E. Blake, won the
+seat; Mr. Blake was his uncle's secretary through the contest when he
+was a youth.</p>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There came to Oxford Robert Gourley,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In his old age his health was poorly;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He was a relic of the past,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In his dotage sinking fast;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet he was erect and tall<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like noble ruined castle wall.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In early times they did him impeach<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For demanding right of speech,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now Oxford he wished to represent<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In Canadian parliament,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But him the riding did not honor,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But elected Doctor Connor.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<p>Lines sent to Alexander McLaughlan, Amaranth Station, with a copy
+of my poems:</p>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We send to you these rugged rhymes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In memory of the olden times,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Great chief of our poetic clan,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Admired by all, McLaughlan.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span></p>
+<h2>PROLOGUE TO SOUTH ONTARIO SKETCHES.</h2>
+
+<p class="center">The district lying South of Georgian Bay and Lake Simcoe, including
+Toronto.</p>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:22em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">My friends we sing Canadian themes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For in them we proudly glory,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her lakes and rivers and her streams,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Worthy of renown in story;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in these leaves we hope is strewn<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some wheat among the chaff,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And maple boughs by rude axe hewn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where one may find a rustic staff;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To help him o'er the rugged lines<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If he to weariness inclines.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some see no beauties near to home,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But do admire the distant far,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They always love abroad to roam,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">View glory in but far off star;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But let it never be forgot<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That distant hills when closer seen<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are after all a barren spot<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Not like your own hills clad in green;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You'll find they are but idle dreams<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To seek for happiness afar.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At home there's lovely lakes and streams,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Remain content now where you are;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At us we hope you will not rage<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Because we sing of local charms<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In each varied town and village<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As well as round our local farms,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But our address it must be brief,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So now we bid you all adieu,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But of our book pray read each leaf<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Until the whole you have gone through;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each one doth know it is not wise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though our songs may not be vocal,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Chants of our home for to despise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But prize them 'cause they are local.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span></p>
+<h2>HOLLAND RIVER AND ITS TRIBUTARIES.</h2>
+
+<p class="center">Meanderings of a stream rises twenty miles north of Toronto and
+sweeps around the whole of Southern Ontario.</p>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:24em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We love to sing of tiny stream,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Through the lowland meadows running,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To us it is a pleasing theme,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tracing it from first beginning.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">'Tis strange how far a brook will roam,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Moving onwards in its motion,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And not content till it reaches home,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Two thousand miles to distant ocean.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In county York springs a small brook,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A few miles north of Ontario,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But it doth take a wondrous crook,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It northward many miles doth flow.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Brook's progress south is stopped by ridge,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Doth debar its southern course,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So a long journey it don't grudge,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But slowly on its way doth force.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And it discharges at its mouth<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Into the pure clear lake Simcoe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It still flows north for to get south,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As onward still its course doth go.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Rejoicing along its way,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hundreds of miles it doth flow west,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Blended in the Georgian Bay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For a moment it doth not rest.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Mingling with Huron and St. Clair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Erie and Niagara river,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Even at the Falls it don't despair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But it cheerful flows forever.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">One thousand miles round an ox bow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It hath flowed back near its first start,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To waters of Ontario,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where ridge at first kept it apart.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">From south of ridge two rivers flow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Both the Don and the Humber,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Embracing city of Toronto,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hath attractions without number.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The fame will spread far and wide,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">First of Don and then of Humber,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Improved rivers like to the Clyde,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With wharves for coal, wood, iron and lumber.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span></p>
+<h2>ST. CATHARINES.</h2>
+
+<p>Lines read at the Welland House, St. Catharines, at a banquet given
+to the members in attendance at the Oddfellows' Grand Lodge.</p>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:22em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">St. Catharines famed for mineral waters<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And for the beauty of her daughters,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For some do worship at the shrines<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of the fair St. Catharines.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">St. Catharines your greatness you inherit<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From the genius of a Merritt,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You still would be a village dreary<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But for this canal from lake Erie.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For on its bosom there doth float<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Full many a ship and steamboat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Brings world's commerce to your doors<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And many gifts on you it pours.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Among its many great rewards<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It gives you dry docks and ship yards,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To drive your mills great water power<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It doth give you as a dower.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Since we above lines did compose,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Through new canal vast stream it flows,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The lock gates at the hill at Thorold<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Can not be equaled in the world.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span></p>
+<h2>BRANTFORD.</h2>
+
+<p>In these sketches of towns in Southern Ontario we are not vain
+enough to suppose that because we have produced some lines thereon
+that said rhymes are poetry. If we furnish an occasional poetic gleam
+like a dewdrop sparkling in the sun, it is all we dare hope for.</p>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:21em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Brantford as thriving city's famed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And after Indian Chief is named,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And here the sparkling Grand River<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It doth flow a joy forever.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Campbell he sang a dismal tale<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of horrors of Wyoming's vale,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The tale one's mind doth ever haunt,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The cruelties of monster Brant.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But the Chief's son to England went<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Campbell to him did lament,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And all the tale he did recant<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">About cruel butcheries of Brant.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Now pleasant thoughts it doth awake<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When Brantford thinks of her namesake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She evermore with pride will chant<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The bold heroic name of Brant.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We sing of two great Indian names,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tecumseh on the banks of Thames,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the Grand River it doth vaunt<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O'er the historic name of Brant.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The city's pride it doth find vent<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In building him a monument,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Indians will proudly stalk<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Past memorial of great Mohawk.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span></p>
+<h2>LINES ON THOROLD.</h2>
+
+<p class="center">McCready, the great Irish tragedian, said that the view from Thorold
+was the finest in America.</p>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:22em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thorold is famous for its mills,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the grand view from off its hills,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A view so charming and extended,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nature's beauties sweetly blended.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Poetic thoughts it doth awake<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To view Ontario's broad lake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And husbandmen have their reward in<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fruits of this Provincial garden.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For from the hill you see below<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gardens where choice fruits do grow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The landscape all within your reach<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Doth both produce the grape and peach.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">McCready said in the New World<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The finest view was from Thorold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You see St. Catharines thriving town<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And steamers sailing up and down.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And you can see on a clear day<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All along Toronto Bay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And you clearly see the haze<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where Niagara doth amaze.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And glance where Grimsby's gardens yield<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or view Beamsville's fruitful field,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then this thought you can advance,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This is Canada's sunny France.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">You see Niagara's ancient town<a name="FNanchor_D_4" id="FNanchor_D_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_D_4" class="fnanchor">[D]</a><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though it has lost us old renown,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And you have a splendid view<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of boats on old canal and new.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_D_4" id="Footnote_D_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_D_4"><span class="label">[D]</span></a> Niagara once the capital of Upper Canada and an important fortress
+at the mouth of the Niagara River.</p></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span></p>
+<h2>ST. THOMAS, 1884.</h2>
+
+<p class="center">At time of Oddfellows Grand Lodge meeting.</p>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:23em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oddfellows once they had to trudge<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O'er rough stage road to the Grand Lodge,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But now they town of metal seek<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And find it on the Kettle Creek.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For industry it here prevails<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As it was built by the steel rails,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And here the wide expanded bridges<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Do connect the distant ridges.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">No more need to stay at home as<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There's lots of railroads to St. Thomas,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You pluckily did boldly venture,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now you are great railroad centre.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Your city now it hath high hopes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From its great railway workshops,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And higher yet it still will rise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This seat of so much enterprise.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When young man wants a wedded mate<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He seeks Alma girl graduate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And he loves her Alma mater<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For the sake of her charming daughter.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span></p>
+<h2>GALT AND DUNLOP.</h2>
+
+<p>John Galt was the manager of the Canada Company's lands, and
+he was a Scottish Novelist. Dunlop was at one time an eminent
+British Journalist, but he finally settled near Goderich. The town of
+Galt is named after John Galt.</p>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:23em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">John Galt and Doctor Dunlop witty<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They located and planned the city<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of Guelph, and they cut the first tree down,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The stump was the centre of the town.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">From thence the streets radiate like fan,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And they projected on this same plan<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The towns of Stratford and Goderich,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The last it stands near broad Huron's beach,<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Conspicuous on a bluff so grand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Neath which doth flow the clear Maitland,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of glorious view you may partake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gazing on Huron's mighty lake.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>TILSONBURG.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:23em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">After him who did the mills own,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This place was called in honor Tilson;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bright gleaming like to a beaming star,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is clear waters of the Otter.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And it doth form here a vast pond,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which extends for miles beyond,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A fortune on town it will shower,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This prodigious water power.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">No other spots to youth appear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like lovely little lakes round here,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And few small towns have fine roadway<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lined with brick blocks like your broadway.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span></p>
+<h2>PORT STANLEY.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:22em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In winter time 'tis sad and dreary<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For to gaze on stormy Erie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But here in summer time this port<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It is a fashionable resort,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For then it is always cheery<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For to gaze upon Lake Erie.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Or on the steamer you can sail<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All independent of the gale,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or here the youth can ply the oar<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And view the fast receding shore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And be happy with his dearie<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On the bosom of Lake Erie.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">No one here need ever weary<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On the borders of Lake Erie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With quadrille parties at Stanley<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And games and sports all so manly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or bathe in waves with friends near thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You fear no storms of Lake Erie.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>PORT BURWELL.</h2>
+
+<p>The following lines were given at a concert when Port Burwell was a
+busy port and there had been a race on the ice the day before.</p>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In winter time who here resort,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To pay a visit to your busy port,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They must be clad in fur well,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For it blows cold at Burwell;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But when you wish to trot your horse<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You make Lake Erie your race course,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And we believe at every heat<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All other horses you do beat.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span></p>
+<h2>SKETCHES ON THE BANKS OF THE CANADIAN THAMES.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"The muse nae poet ever fand her<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till by himsel' he learned to wander<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Adown some trotting burn's meander."<br /></span>
+<div class="citation">&mdash;Burns.</div>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>The valley of the Thames, we presume, includes Stratford on the
+north and Woodstock and Ingersoll on the south. The Avon, on
+whose banks Stratford is located, joins the Thames near St. Marys.
+The middle branch flows through Embro and Thamesford. The south
+and middle branches unite and flow through Dorchester and Westminster
+and blend with the northern branch at London, where it
+deviates to Elgin in the south.</p>
+
+
+<h3>ENGLISH NAMES ON CANADIAN THAMES.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:22em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">England has given us the names<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To adorn Canadian Thames,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And charms to them she has lent<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In Oxford, Middlesex and Kent,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She Essex kisseth in her mouth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Scottish names, one north, one south,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And London now it justly claims<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Tis capital of vale of Thames,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And her strong castellated tower<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Doth on the river frowning lower,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Chatham is the river's port,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There slaves for freedom did resort,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And they did industrious toil,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And now many own the soil,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Stratford now shall be our theme,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On Avon tributary stream,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And its clear waters it doth launch<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Into the Thames northern branch,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Near that substantial stone town<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">St. Mary's with mills of renown,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Westward it winds past each town,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Growing broader as it flows down,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Onward it glides never weary,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Meandering so soft and cheery.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The sunbeam on the waters glance,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Skipping about in silvery dance,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From morn till eve the cattle feed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Neath lofty elms along the mead.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And on its banks in warrior pride<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The brave Tecumseh fought and died,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And it has now historic claims<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The famous battle of the Thames.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now soon the waters meet and pair<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With the wavelets of St. Clair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As maids when wed do lose their names,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No longer it is called the Thames.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rejoicing on its way it smiles,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Kissing the shores of Thousand Isles,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mingling with <ins title="Original spelling.">St. Lawrance</ins> motion,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It soon is blended with the ocean.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+<h3>LONDON FLOOD, JULY 11th, 1883.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:22em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">From the long continuous rains<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O'erflowing were the swamps and drains,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For each day had its heavy shower,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Torrents fell for many an hour;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At London where two branches join<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It seem'd two furies did combine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For to spread far both death and woe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With their wild, raging overflow;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">E'en houses did on waters float,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As though each had been built for boat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And where was wealth and joy and bloom,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Soon naught but inmates of the tomb;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Flood o'erflowed both vale and ridges,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And swept railroads, dams and bridges,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A mother climbed in tree to save<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her infant from a watery grave,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But on the house you saw its blood<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where it was crushed 'gainst tree by flood;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where cottages 'mong gardens stood<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Tis covered o'er with vile drift wood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O'er flowers and bushes you may travel<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For they are buried under gravel,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or you may walk o'er barren sand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The crops washed out and fertile land;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Two funerals we at once did see<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of one family who lost three;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No longer river's deep and wide<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But gently flows to distant tide.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<h3>DISASTER TO STEAMER VICTORIA AT LONDON.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">At London Thames is a broad stream,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which was the scene of a sad theme,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A fragile steamer there did play,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O'ercrowded on a Queen's Birthday,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While all on board was bright and gay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But soon 'neath the cold waters lay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Naught but forms of lifeless clay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which made, alas! sad month of May.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span></p>
+<h3>LINES ON WOODSTOCK.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:23em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">English Woodstock had a palace<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where the Queen in jealous malice<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Slew romance's fairest flower,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fair Rosamond in secret bower;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our Woodstock pleasing county town,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This brings it both wealth and renown,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To your strong castle some are sent<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To give them leisure to repent.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A charming vista you do view<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gazing on each street and avenue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mansions and lawn embowered 'mong trees<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where wealthy owners live at ease,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And through the air there sweetly floats<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Harmonious Woodstock organ notes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And men employment secure<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In factory for furniture;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Old Oxford is a seat of knowledge,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Woodstock has a fine new college,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And farm implement work shops,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So farmers easy reap their crops;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The old court house is a disgrace,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Grand structure soon will take its place.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span></p>
+<h3>INGERSOLL.</h3>
+
+<p class="center">Ex-Mayor Thomas Brown may be considered the father of the town,
+he projected the first roads and bridges.</p>
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:21em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The Thames and tributary rills,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here they do drive numerous mills,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Enabling millers to compete<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To pay high price for oats and wheat.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here streams do drive many a wheel<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For to grind both flour and oatmeal,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And town will extend its boundaries<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With its enterprising foundries.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For fine pianos town is famed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And highest rank for them is claimed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And brighter days for it yet dawns<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With its grand mansions and fine lawns,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And it has now the title grand<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The capital of dairyland.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+
+<h3>EMBRO.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:22em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">O'er various counties of the north,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When cruel order did go forth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For to destroy many a home,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So that the wild deer free might roam;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The men of Sutherland and Ross,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The broad Atlantic they did cross,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each seeking for a fertile farm,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">These rolling lands for them had charm;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They ne'er desired again to roam,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each happy in his woodland home,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where middle branch of Thames doth flow<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They built the village of Embro,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And it the hill tops now doth crown<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like its grand namesake Edina Town,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And good flour mills you here do find<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And oats also they here do grind.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<hr class="short" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span></p>
+<h3>BEACHVILLE.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:21em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Of Beachville, village of the plain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We now will sing a short refrain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For here the Thames doth pleasant flow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And charm to landscape doth bestow;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though river here it is not deep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet banks slope graceful up the steep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And from the summit of the hills<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You look down on the famed lime kilns,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And 'tis full worthy poet's rhyme<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The whiteness of your pure white lime,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Your glory never shall be gone<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While you have quarries of this stone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In influence you yet will wax<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With mills for flour and also flax.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<h3>STRATFORD.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:22em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Our Canadian county Perth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Commemorates great bard of earth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Stratford and Avon both are here,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And they enshrine the name Shakespeare.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For here in Stratford every ward<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is named from dramas of great bard,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here you may roam o'er Romeo,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or glance on Juliet bestow.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And it is a railway centre,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Many a train doth here enter,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And railroad shops do men employ,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And gives them work and wealth and joy.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<hr class="short" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span></p>
+<h3>LINES ON THAMESFORD.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:21em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The middle branch of Thames doth flow<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O'er pebble bed and it doth glow<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And sparkle like silver in the sun,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As it through pasture lands doth run.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In dam is ample water stored,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To drive flour mills in Thamesford,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Besides the power of the stream,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Saw mills and flax are drove by steam.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Our mind it doth with pleasure fill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To see fine brick church on each hill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And that substantial one of stone<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Owned by congregation of St. John.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span></p>
+<h2>THE VALE OF THAMES.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In vale of Thames oft' times are seen<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The cattle graze 'mong sweetest green,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or there contented with their fate<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The gentle cows do ruminate.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And enjoy a double pleasure<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In re-chewing hidden treasure,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The cow is a kindly creature,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Kind and pleasant in each feature.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">About her is a homely charm,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And her the dog should not alarm,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But let all safe guard her from harm,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The gentlest creature on the farm.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span></p>
+<h2>DAIRY AND CHEESE ODES.</h2>
+
+
+<p>As cheese making first began in this county and it has already
+become the chief industry of many counties, it is no insignificant theme.
+About the middle of this century Canada was a great importer of
+cheese, and now cheese is the principal article of export from the
+Province of Ontario, and this Province will soon export no less than
+ten millions of dollars worth of cheese per annum. Mr. Ranney was
+doing a thriving business in the dairy line, manufacturing cheese after
+the century was half gone on the dairy plan from the products of his
+own cows, and one decade later Mr. Farrington introduced the factory
+system. Both of these gentlemen have departed this life but Canada
+is enjoying the fruits of their labors, and about eight hundred cheese
+factories are in operation in this Province of Ontario.</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<h3>RANNEY, 1856, DAIRY SYSTEM.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ranney began with just two cows,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which he in winter fed on browse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And now he hath got mighty herds<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Numerous as flock of birds,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">May he long live our hearts to cheer<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This great and useful pioneer.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<h3>FARRINGTON, 1866, FACTORY SYSTEM.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The farmers they now all make rich<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Since Farrington went to Norwich,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the system first there began<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of making cheese on factory plan;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He came from Herkimer county,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To Canada he was a bounty;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Norwich village moved but slow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till railways made it quickly grow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And industries here now take root,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The township's famous for its fruit.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span></div></div>
+
+<p>Among the earliest champions of the Factory System of making
+cheese were Messrs. Chadwick, Casswell and Ballantyne. The North
+Oxford Company were awarded the highest honor at the Centennial
+Exhibition. Messrs. J. L. Grant &amp; Co. have a fine large cold storage
+warehouse on the G.T.R., and the C.P.R. have erected one on their
+line, which is leased by Mr. Riley. Ingersoll being the great dairy
+centre of Ontario it was deemed requisite to have those facilities for
+preserving the cheese in the hot season. The following is a list of the
+most prominent cheese factories in this district and the salesmen
+thereof:</p>
+
+
+
+<ul><li>Dereham and West Oxford&mdash;W. Nancekivell.</li>
+<li>Harris Street&mdash;T. R. Mayberry.</li>
+<li>W. Oxford&mdash;G. Galloway.</li>
+<li>N. Oxford&mdash;D. J. Dundass.</li>
+<li>Maple Leaf&mdash;Thomas Caddy.</li>
+<li>W. Zorra&mdash;John Blair.</li>
+<li>Burnside&mdash;H. George.</li>
+<li>Gore&mdash;H. C. Hopkins.</li>
+<li>Salford&mdash;Foster &amp; Gregg.</li>
+<li>Mt. Elgin&mdash;W. Tripp.</li>
+<li>Brownsville&mdash;Hopkins &amp; Fulton.</li>
+<li>Prouse's&mdash;T. Prouse.</li>
+<li>Kintore&mdash;G. Alderson.</li>
+<li>Harrietsville&mdash;R. Facey.</li>
+<li>East Nissouri&mdash;W. J. Walker.</li>
+<li>Cold Springs&mdash;H. Matheson.</li>
+<li>Dorchester&mdash;L. D. Monk.</li>
+<li>Lawson&mdash;N. Wilford.</li>
+<li>Wilkinson&mdash;J. H. Wilkinson.</li>
+<li>Dereham and Norwich Union&mdash;W. Fewster.</li>
+<li>Verschoyle&mdash;James Hunter.</li>
+<li>Avon and Firby&mdash;W. Kirkly.</li>
+<li>Thamesford&mdash;F. Patterson.</li>
+<li>Lyons&mdash;James Mitchell.</li>
+<li>Lakeside&mdash;T. Marshall.</li>
+<li>Belmont&mdash;John Evans.</li>
+<li>Cherry Hill&mdash;H. Webster.</li>
+</ul>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span></p>
+<h3>FATHER RANNEY, THE CHEESE PIONEER.</h3>
+
+<p class="center">This is our earliest cheese ode. The Ingersoll factory has been
+removed to Thamesford.</p>
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:21em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When Father Ranney left the States,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In Canada to try the fates,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He settled down in Dereham,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then no dairyman lived near him;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He was the first there to squeeze<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His cows' milk into good cheese,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And at each Provincial show<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His famed cheese was all the go.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then long life to Father Ranney<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">May he wealth and honour gain aye.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He always took the first prize<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Both for quality and size,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But many of his neighbors<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now profit by his labors,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the ladies dress in silk<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From the proceeds of the milk,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But those who buy their butter,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How dear it is, they mutter.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then long life to Father Ranney,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">May he his health retain aye.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The farmers can not be beat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They have both cheese and their wheat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though now their greatest care is<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For to watch o'er their dairies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They carefully fill their mows<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With provender for their cows,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And they thus enrich the soil<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With much profit for their toil.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We will sing this refrain aye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Long life to Father Ranney.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The motto "union is strength"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is carried out at length,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the most compact array<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At every cheese factory,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You'll see without going far as<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There is one kept by Harris,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The factory of Ingersoll,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Just out at the first toll.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">May he never suffer pain aye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Father of cheesemen Ranney.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Or you may go all the way<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To see one kept by Galloway,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And out in the Norwiches<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dairymen are making riches,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And honor has been won<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By Harvey Farrington,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The same path is trodden<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By folks about Culloden.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">May his strength never wane aye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The great dairyman Ranney.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And of late we saw some<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Very good cheese from Lawson,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All around Mt. Elgin<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dairymen have well done,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And out in East Nissouri<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They make some scores a day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From Jarvis and Elliott<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some good cheese are bought.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And we will all remain aye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Indebted to Father Ranney.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Now we close this glorious theme,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This song of curds and rich cream,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You can buy your hoops and screws,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And all supplies for dairy use,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Milk cans and vats, all things like these,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In Ingersoll great mart for cheese,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here buyers all do congregate<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And pay for cheese the highest rate.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">So we call on you again aye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To honor Father Ranney.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<h3>ODE ON THE MAMMOTH CHEESE.</h3>
+
+<p class="center">Weight over seven thousand pounds.</p>
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:21em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We have seen thee, queen of cheese,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lying quietly at your ease,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gently fanned by evening breeze,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy fair form no flies dare seize.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">All gaily dressed soon you'll go<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To the great Provincial show,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To be admired by many a beau<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the city of Toronto.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Cows numerous as a swarm of bees,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or as the leaves upon the trees,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It did require to make thee please,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And stand unrivalled, queen of cheese.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">May you not receive a scar as<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We have heard that Mr. Harris<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Intends to send you off as far as<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The great world's show at Paris.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Of the youth beware of these,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For some of them might rudely squeeze<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And bite your cheek, then songs or glees<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We could not sing, oh! queen of cheese.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We'rt thou suspended from balloon,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You'd cast a shade even at noon,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Folks would think it was the moon<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">About to fall and crush them soon.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<h3>LINES READ AT A DAIRYMEN'S SUPPER.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:19em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">It almost now seems all in vain<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For to expect high price for grain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wheat is grown on Egyptian soil<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On the banks of mighty Nile.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And where the Ganges it doth flow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In India fine wheat doth grow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And price of labor is so cheap<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That it they can successful reap.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then let the farmers justly prize<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The cows for land they fertilize,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And let us all with songs and glees<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Invoke success into the cheese.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span></p>
+<h3>HINTS TO CHEESE MAKERS.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:21em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">All those who quality do prize<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Must study color, taste and size,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And keep their dishes clean and sweet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And all things round their factories neat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For dairymen insist that these<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are all important points in cheese.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Grant has here a famous work<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Devoted to the cure of pork,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For dairymen find it doth pay<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To fatten pigs upon the whey,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For there is money raising grease<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As well as in the making cheese.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<h3>ENSILAGE.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The farmers now should all adorn<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A few fields with sweet southern corn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It is luscious, thick and tall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The beauty of the fields in fall.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For it doth make best ensilage,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For those in dairying engage,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It makes the milk in streams to flow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where dairymen have a good silo.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The cow is a happy rover<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O'er the fields of blooming clover,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of it she is a fond lover,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And it makes milk pails run over.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span></p>
+<h3>FERTILE LANDS AND MAMMOTH CHEESE.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:22em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In barren district you may meet<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Small fertile spot doth grow fine wheat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There you may find the choicest fruits,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And great, round, smooth and solid roots.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But in conditions such as these<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You cannot make a mammoth cheese,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which will weigh eight thousand pounds,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But where large fertile farms abounds.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Big cheese is synonymous name,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With fertile district of the Thame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here dairy system's understood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And they are made both large and good.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<h3>LINES READ AT A DAIRYMAIDS' SOCIAL, 1887.</h3>
+
+<p class="center">Where the young lady waiters were dressed as dairymaids.</p>
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:22em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Throughout the world they do extol<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The fame of our town Ingersoll,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The capital of dairyland,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To-night it seems like fairy land,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The youth and beauty here arrayed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So sweet and neat each dairymaid.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And worthy of a poet's theme,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sweet and smooth flows milk and cream,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For song or glee what is fitter<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In this land of cheese and butter,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But no young man should be afraid<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To court a pretty dairymaid.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And far abroad he should not roam<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But find a charmer here at home,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Find some one now your heart to cheer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thus celebrate the jubilee year,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Remember long this ladies' aid<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And each bewitching dairymaid.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span></p>
+<p class="center">Lines Read at a Parsonage Opening at the Village where Ranney
+had once flourished, 1883.</p>
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:21em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Some do boast of their pedigrees,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But Salford's parent of the cheese,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ranney, industrious and wise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here started this great enterprise.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He did work on the dairy plan,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While Farrington was factoryman,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Both of these men it well did please<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To hear of progress making cheese.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The farmers are in cheerful mood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For harvest all it has been good,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And all the grain was sown this spring<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An abundant yield will bring.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And you can scarcely stow away<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The yield of barley, oats and hay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Such pasture it is seldom seen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">E'en now it is so fresh and green.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">This beauteous colour nature decks,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While it insures you large milk cheques,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And certes you've much cause to praise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For hogs and cattle that you raise.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span></p>
+<h3>OXFORD CHEESE ODE.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:23em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The ancient poets ne'er did dream<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That Canada was land of cream,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They ne'er imagined it could flow<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In this cold land of ice and snow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where everything did solid freeze,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They ne'er hoped or looked for cheese.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A few years since our Oxford farms<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Were nearly robbed of all their charms,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O'er cropped the weary land grew poor<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And nearly barren as a moor,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But now their owners live at ease<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rejoicing in their crop of cheese.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And since they justly treat the soil,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are well rewarded for their toil,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The land enriched by goodly cows<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yields plenty now to fill their mows,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Both wheat and barley, oats and peas,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But still their greatest boast is cheese.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And you must careful fill your mows<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With good provender for your cows,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in the winter keep them warm,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Protect them safe all time from harm,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For cows do dearly love their ease,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which doth insure best grade of cheese.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">To us it is a glorious theme<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To sing of milk and curds and cream,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Were it collected it could float<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On its bosom, small steam boat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cows numerous as swarm of bees<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are milked in Oxford to make cheese.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">To prove the wealth that here abounds,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One cheese weighed eight thousand pounds,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Had it been hung in air at noon<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Folks would have thought it was the moon,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It sailed with triumph o'er the seas,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Twas hailed with welcome, queen of cheese.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<h3>WINDMILLS AND STONE STABLES.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:21em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Cows suffered in the days of old<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For want of water and from cold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now of good water they have fill<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For it is pumped by the windmill.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">No matter how well cows were fed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They suffered cold in their board shed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But good stone walls now them enfold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And they are warm and safe from cold.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Now they do enjoy their fodder,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And repay with their full udder,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If bran slops you on cow bestow<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of milk it will increase the flow.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And in your efforts do not halt<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But let them daily lick the salt,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And never let the dogs them chase,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But let them walk at their quiet pace.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span></p>
+<h3>DAIRY ODES.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:24em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The sweet milkmaid of early days<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her own household she ably sways,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And her daughters now milk the cows,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And her sons they now guide the plows.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">These pleasing changes on a farm<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Doth give to rural life a charm,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let occupation none upbraid,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But honor plowman and milkmaid.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For Burns with glory did endow<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And wove a garland round the plow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The source from which all wealth doth spring<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And happiness to all doth bring.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Our muse it doth refuse to sing<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of cheese made early in the spring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When cows give milk from spring fodder<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You cannot make a good cheddar.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The quality is often vile<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of cheese that is made in April,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Therefore we think for that reason<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You should make later in the season.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Cheese making now you should delay<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Until about the first of May.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then cows do feed on grassy field<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And rich milk they abundant yield.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ontario cannot compete<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With the Northwest in raising wheat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For cheaper there they it can grow<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So price in future may be low.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Though this a hardship it may seem,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rejoice that you have got the cream,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In this land of milk and honey,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where dairy farmers do make money.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Utensils must be clean and sweet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So cheese with first class can compete,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And daily polish up milk pans,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Take pains with vats and with milk cans.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And it is important matter<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To allow no stagnant water,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But water from pure well or stream<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The cow must drink to give pure cream.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Canadian breeds 'tis best to pair<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With breeds from the shire of Ayr,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They thrive on our Canadian feed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And are for milking splendid breed.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Though 'gainst spring cheese some do mutter,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet spring milk also makes bad butter,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then there doth arise the query<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How utilize it in the dairy:<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The milk it floats in great spring flood<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though it is not so rich and good,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let us be thankful for this stream<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of milk and also curds and cream.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">All dairymen their highest aims<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Should be to make the vale of Thames,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where milk doth so abundant flow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dairyland of Ontario.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span></p>
+<h3>CHEESE CURD FOR BAIT.</h3>
+
+<p>The following adventure was participated in by Mr. J. Podmore
+and Mr. W. D. Grant at Matheson's Cold Spring Cheese Factory in
+Zorra, 1888.</p>
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:21em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Cheese buyers in hours of leisure<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Combine business with pleasure,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And when they wish to go abroad<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They take their gun and fishing rod.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">This tale is true we pledge our word,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They baited hook with a piece of curd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And let the rod hang from the boat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While curd and hook on pond did float.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And then they start for sport and fun,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To try their luck with the shot gun,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And quick they raised from their cover,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then brought low eight brace of plover.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Now to the pond they do return,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But loss of rod they have to mourn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They see it rushing through the water,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And wonder what can be the matter.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But the courage of young Grant,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It did not for a moment daunt,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though rod it now is far beyond,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He plunged into deep, cold spring pond.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And seized his rod and then drew out<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A beauteous seven pound trout,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><ins title="Whih replaced by Which.">Which</ins> had grown from the seed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From spawn of California breed.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And Californian in its greed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On the sweet curd wished to feed;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But, alas, for it's sad fate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It swallowed hook along with bait.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CANADIAN SKETCHES.</h2>
+
+
+<h3>THANKSGIVING ODE, NOVEMBER 15TH, 1888.</h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:21em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">September came and with it frost<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The season's pasture it seemed lost,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the wondrous yield of corn<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of its green beauty it was shorn.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Frost it came like early robber,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But gentle rains came in October,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which were absorbed by grateful soil;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With green once more the pastures smile.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And cows again are happy seen<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Enjoying of the pastures green,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And flow of milk again they yield<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From the sweet feed of grassy field.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And we have now a fine November,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Warmer far than in September;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The apple, which is queen of fruits,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Was a good crop and so is roots.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The rains they did replenish springs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And it gratitude to each heart brings,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When we reflect on bounteous season,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For grateful feelings all have reason.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span></p>
+<h3>AGRICULTURAL IMPLEMENTS.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:22em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Poor laborers they did sad bewail,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When the machine displaced the flail,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There's little work now with the hoes.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Since cultivators weed the rows.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Labor it became more fickle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When the scythe took place of sickle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Labor still it did sink lower,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By introduction of mower.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And the work was done much cheaper<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When they added on the reaper,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Another machine to it they join,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mower, reaper, binder, all combine.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Machines now load and stow away,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Both the barley and the hay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the farmers do get richer<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With the loader and the pitcher.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There's very few men now hand sows,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No more broad cast the grain it grows,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They sow and rake by the machine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hand labor is 'mong the things have been.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Armed with scythes the old war chariot,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cut men down in the fierce war riot,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Round farmers' chariot fall the slain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But 'tis the sheaves of golden grain.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span></p>
+<h3>WHEN TO SELL GRAIN AND FARM PRODUCE.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:22em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Grain it should be sold in the fall<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Even if the price it should be small,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For if you keep it till the spring<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sometimes a less price it doth bring.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For grain with whole world doth compete,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You cannot raise the price of wheat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then at once you should embark it<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On its way to world's market.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We hope our views you don't despise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For grain doth shrink in weight and size,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If you sell wheat you can get gold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Retain it, damp may make it mould.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Remember too that of your wheat<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The rats of it will fondly eat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sell it and money then invest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And you can get good interest.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The same remarks apply to cheese,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It shrinks and frosts make it to freeze,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then careful man you have to hire<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At great expense to keep up fire.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">If you your produce quick do move,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The business soon it will improve,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And then mankind will you bless<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For alleviating their distress.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And it pays best to sell each pig,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Plump and young, not old, fat and big,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Young and tender now's the vogue<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Either in cattle or in hog.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span></p>
+<h3>FOUR ACRE FARM.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:23em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">This is a tale, but it is truth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of maiden lady named Ruth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She owned a small four acre farm,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which possessed some rural charm.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">This maiden she was past her youth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But none <ins title="Original spelling.">e're</ins> fell in love with Ruth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though you must not infer from thence<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That she possessed not grace nor sense.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">She was handsome in her day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But beauty quickly fades away,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Good vegetables and fine roots<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She growed and choicest kind of fruits.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And a first-class good milch cow<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She kept, and a fine breeding sow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her butter high price did command,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cow fed on best of pasture land.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">On it was pond where swam her geese,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From small flock of sheep she sheared fleece,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And thus she passed year after year,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her cares they kept her in good cheer.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Each year she raised large chicken brood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And for them she grew lots of food,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In winter time it was her rule<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To knit and spin up her own wool.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And thus her uneventful life<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Doth pass without jar or strife,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Tis seldom she <ins title="Original spelling.">e're</ins> feels alarm,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But quietly tills her little farm.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">To plow her little fields of course<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She does require to drive her horse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This little pony looks quite smart<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Drawing old maid in little cart.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span></p>
+<h3>HARVEST HOME FESTIVAL.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:21em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In summer time it doth seem good<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To seek the shade of the green wood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For it doth banish all our care<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When we gaze on scene so fair.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And birds do here in branches sing<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So merrily in early spring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And lovingly they here do pair<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their mutual joys together share.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Here nature's charming, never rude,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Inspiring all with happy mood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tables had choice fruits of season,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And we too had feast of reason.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">To dinner table all did march<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Through evergreen triumphal arch,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On top the Union Jack it floats,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On each side sheaves of wheat and oats.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Great pumpkins and big ears of corn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They do this rural arch adorn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We are reminded now 'tis fall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And boys enjoy game of baseball.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">With joy at night each one did gaze<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At the mighty bonfire's blaze,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The tree leaves shone like silver bright,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The lanterns too were pleasing sight.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CORNER STONE LAYING.</h2>
+
+<p>The following lines were read at the festival after the stone had
+been laid by Grand Master Col. Moffat, of a church on the Culloden
+road, with Masonic honors.</p>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:21em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In this quiet spot this day of June,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which will not be forgotten soon,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For when your little church on hill<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You overflowingly did fill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You then resolved there should arise<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Church worthy of your enterprise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You've laid foundation broad and deep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And showers of blessings may you reap.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Craft of King Hiram and Saint John<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Have come to lay the corner stone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At the call of our Grand Master<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who was invited by your pastor,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With silver trowel all so fair<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He laid foundation on the square,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">May you be blessed with Christian love,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And we all meet in Lodge above.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<h3>LINES ON METHODIST UNION, SEPTEMBER, 1883.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:21em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A pleasing sight to-day we see,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Four churches joined in harmony,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There difference was but trivial,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But strove each other to outrival.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In friendship now they do unite,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Satan only they do fight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And they'll plant churches in North West,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where they can serve the Lord the best.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CREDIT VALLEY TRIP.</h2>
+
+<p>The Credit Valley Railway Company having placed a car at the
+service of the council we were kindly invited to accompany them to
+Toronto.</p>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Whene'er we take a tour abroad<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We love to travel o'er new road,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where scenery to us is new<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And landscape pleasing to the view,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When invited for to rally<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And take a trip on Credit Valley,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We resolved for to afford<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A day with Council and School Board,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For to view the rural charms<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of hills and dales and fertile farms,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With joy we saw the sunbeams gleam<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On Grand River beauteous stream,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And those perpendicular walls<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of rock, like old baronial halls,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We saw the great lake ebb and flow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And queen city of Ontario,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While some enjoyed the genial smile<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of Hanlon on his lake girt isle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Returning home each one exclaims<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Happiest spot is banks of Thames."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span></p>
+<h2>EAGLE AND SALMON.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:21em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Wilmot of fish <ins title="Original spelling.">culutre</ins> fame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To this tale he lends his name,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A pair of eagles built their nest<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On a lofty pine tree's crest.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And therein they regular rear<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A brood of young year after year,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One day he saw one leave its nest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When for food it was in quest.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">It did wing its flight on high,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And then on water cast its eye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When it quickly did discover<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A great salmon in the river.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Like lightning flash down it doth sweep<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And its talons it buries deep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In salmon of enormous size<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He trys to rise in air with prize.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But all in vain he quickly found<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He could not carry thirty pound,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And had bit more than he could chew<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For in the air no more he flew.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Wilmot he did gaze with wonder<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At the spot where he went under,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Resolved to know what was the matter<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He poled his boat o'er the water.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And he looked down and there he found<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That the eagle it was drowned,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And its wings in part outspread,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But alas it was quite dead.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">With grappling hook he drew him out,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But attached to him was monster trout,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Eagle could not extract his claws,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And this the death of both did cause.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CAPTAIN'S ADVENTURE.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:22em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Three years ago my vessel lay<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In a port of Hudson Bay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I started off for the trading post,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But on the way back I then got lost.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And the thought soon gave me the blues,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Trudging along on my snow shoes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Over the wastes of drifting snow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While the wind it did fiercely blow.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I feared that I would be froze hard,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For it was a fearful blizzard,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I was growing faint and weary,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Not the slightest hopes to cheer me.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Without compass to bearing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My yells were beyond crews' hearing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But at last to my loud halloo<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There came a mournful ho, ho.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">From creature white I thought 'twas ghost,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And that I was forever lost,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I heard horrid creature flutter,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As it those strange sounds did utter.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">At last I found that all this howl<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Was from a noble large white owl,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And a happy apparition,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So runs the Indian tradition.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">It guides the lost one in distress<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And leads him out of wilderness,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This strange bird I soon follow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And it still kept up its halloo.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">It seem'd that it cried to cheer me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I thought the ship was now near me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As I walked o'er the banks of snow<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I kept up a feeble halloo.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And but a little ways beyond<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From my own crew I got respond,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With joy I was received by crew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So happy all at my rescue.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">It must be that some gentle soul<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Did then inhabit that strange fowl,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But O to me 'twas wondrous fair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For it thus saved me from despair.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The man's my foe who now doth growl<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At the strange sounds made by the owl,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The sailors all they took delight<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To feed this bird so pure and white.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But soon the poor bird was o'erfed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Early one morn we found it dead,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And my breast it heaved with sighs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the tears poured from mine eyes.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But precious relic in glass case<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I oft gaze on its kindly face,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And grateful memories it brings,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When I behold its glorious wings.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">To stuff such birds I knew the art<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On it I worked with my whole heart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To preserve each grace and feature<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Full of charms to me is creature.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span></p>
+<h2>INDIAN ROMANCE.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:22em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We know a hill is smooth and round,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where Indian relics may be found,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This hill it hath a history,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though enveloped in mystery.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">All the youth do fondly glory<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For to read an Indian story,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This hill was ancient camping ground,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In creek near by did trout abound.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And from hill top they caught a gleam<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of the river's broader stream,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They came in their birch bark canoes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Into this place of rendezvous.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When States did Canada invade,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Great Indian host was here arrayed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here they rallied from near and far,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In eighteen hundred and twelve war.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Chief big Wolfe led them on to war,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And bade farewell to morning star,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He wedded her one year before,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And her he fondly did adore.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">To him she never seemed so sweet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her dress had beads worked o'er so neat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And her toilet to complete,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Grand moccasins upon her feet.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Tribe marches and they boldly fight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Longside of Brock on Queenstown height,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With glory they do return crowned,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Into the hill so smooth and round.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Here big Wolfe drank much fire water,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And it led to his own slaughter,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His death alas did blast and mar,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And dimmed the light of morning star.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CANADIAN HUNTER.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:22em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Of Kentucky's great hunter bold<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Old Daniel Boone oft tales are told,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of wild beasts he had no fear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But dangers loved that pioneer.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Canada has hunters many,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet perhaps there is not any<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For skill and boldness can compare<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With our own Daniel Hebner.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In youth he was both tall and strong,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And supple as a willow thong,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He never fled from savage bear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though bruin on hind legs would rear.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In hunting mink, or fox or coon,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He was a second Daniel Boone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His rifle oft brought down the deer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which to his table brought good cheer.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But through his life his highest aim<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Was to kill the savage game,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To track the wild cat to its lair<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And see its eyes so fiercely glare.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But he oft longs for a cut ham,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sweet as from bear near to Putnam,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For he waged his fiercest war<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In big swamp of Dorchester.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Now in the winter Dan he rides<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Warm 'mong his bear and coon skin hides,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He lets the younger men now snare<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The beaver, muskrat and otter.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span></p>
+<h2>FIGHT WITH A BEAR IN THE NORTHWEST.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:23em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Two youths employed at the fur fort<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Resolved to have half day of sport,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From Jasper House, in the far north,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For game they joyous issued forth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The factor of the Hudson Bay<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Granted them a few hours play,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And it was in cold winter time<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When thick on lake was glassy rime,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But beneath, o'er all their route,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They saw below big speckled trout,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With hatchet ice they did clear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the beauteous trout did spear.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Soon bear they saw and youths did skate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Resolved for to seal his fate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A pistol shot made bruin roar,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And from him trickled drops of gore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They round him skate and fresh blood drew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When they at him the hatchet threw;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He first chased one and then the other,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For men on skates did him bother,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But the bold Scottish lad McBeth<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Alas he nearly met his death,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When he so boldly did press near<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To probe with the sharp fish spear.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">They knew their game was no trifle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So they secured a trusty rifle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Returning he had fled to wood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But they traced him with his blood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They saw the elder bushes sway<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While he did force through them his way,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They skated swiftly o'er the ice<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And were near brushwood in a trice,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Full soon the savage beast is slain<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With rifle bullet in his brain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And now these hunters do take pride<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In skin as large as Buffalo hide.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span></p>
+<h2>ORIGIN OF THE TOBOGGAN.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:22em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I am a hunter by profession,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And when I make this confession,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of what I saw with mine own eyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It may cause you some surprise.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But we at once now you do warn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That this is not a made up yarn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It happened in the interior,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Far north of Lake Superior.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When up the hill setting my traps,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I heard on trees peculiar raps,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It made me then attentive hark,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And then I heard pulling off the bark.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">It was a bright and pleasant day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The distance was three miles away,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And it caused me but slight alarm,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When they around bark placed each arm.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And threw the bark o'er their shoulder,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I being a distant beholder<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Knew not what end they had in view,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But I must own my wonder grew.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When I saw those men were warm dressed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With good fur robe each one was blessed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In single file they marched up hill<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With strangest thoughts my mind did fill.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When each man in his robe began<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With tough bark to make toboggan,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And quick as lightning down they slide,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It seemed to me a dangerous ride.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The spot was covered o'er with hairs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And it seem'd mixed with blood of bears,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And my two dogs Bull and Daisy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At sight and scent of it went crazy.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Could none of these been a true man,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or was I gross deceived by bruin,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It was a long and glassy slide,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Reached far up the mountain side.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">They had been first enjoying the fun<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of sliding down on their bare skin,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Until their hide was getting worn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And their flesh was somewhat torn.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">So Bear invented Toboggan,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which is a blessing to young man,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the fair maiden by his side,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For both enjoy the pleasant ride.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span></p>
+<h2>BEAR AND FALLS.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:23em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Strange incidents do happen ever<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On the famed Niagara river,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This thought to mind it now recalls<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Event three miles above the falls.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thrilling ventures there abound,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A bear which weighed eight hundred pounds,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hunters they do him discover<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As he was swimming down the river.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">They felt he would be glorious prize<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This grand fat bear of mighty size,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Three men they jump'd into canoe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A skilful and determined crew.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Soon alongside of him they row,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But kindly feelings he doth show,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Quick he scrambled o'er the boat side<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For to enjoy a good boat ride.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And as o'er the side he straddles<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They hit him on head with paddles,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But all in vain, so two of crew<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A short time bade the bear adieu.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And soon they swiftly swam to shore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But current down the river bore<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Man, bear and boat, the sound appals<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of roaring mighty water falls.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But vigorous now he plys the oar,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In hopes to safely reach the shore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But this made bear to grin and growl<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And wear on brow a horrid scowl.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">So poor man sore against his will<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Finds that in boat he must keep still,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or else be hugged to death by bear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While sound of falls becomes more near.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But his two friends so brave and true<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Row quick 'longside in a canoe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And fire in bruin leaden balls,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thus saving friend from bear and falls.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span></p>
+<h2>BROKEN RAFT ADVENTURE.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:22em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A man on Nova Scotian Bay<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On broken raft was borne away,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Right out on the open sea<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where the storm did blow so free,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No shelter from the wind or wave<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He thought the gulf would be his grave,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He had no food life to sustain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He laid him down there to remain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What happened he did know no more,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But old man on Prince Edward's shore<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Saw raft drifting near his shed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And thought the poor man was quite dead,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He called for help and soon they bore<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His lifeless body to the shore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But old man he did them desire<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To place the body near the fire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And wrap it up in blankets warm,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which did act like to a charm,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And soon the breath it did return,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With gratitude his heart did burn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To think he was again restored<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unto his friends whom he adored.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span></p>
+<h2>FIGHT OF A BUFFALO WITH WOLVES.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:22em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A buffalo, lord of the plain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With massive neck and mighty mane,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While from his herd he slowly strays,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He on green herbage calm doth graze,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And when at last he lifts his eyes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A savage wolf he soon espies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But scarcely deigns to turn his head<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For it inspires him with no dread,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He knows the wolf is treacherous foe<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But feels he soon could lay him low,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A moment more and there's a pair<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose savage eyes do on him glare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But with contempt them both he scorns<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unworthy of his powerful horns;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their numbers soon do multiply<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But the whole pack he doth defy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He could bound quickly o'er the plain<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And his own herd could soon regain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His foes they now are full a score<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With lolling tongues pant for his gore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He hears their teeth all loudly gnash<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So eager his big bones to crash,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On every side they him infest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The north, the south, the east, the west<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fierce rage doth now gleam from his eye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Resolved to conquer or to die,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Round him they yelp and howl and growl,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He glares on them with angry scowl,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They circle closer him around,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He roars and springs with mighty bound,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And of his powers gives ample proof,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Felling them with horn and hoof,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though some lay dead upon the plain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet their attack was not in vain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For they have tasted of his blood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Resolved it soon shall pour a flood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He feels that they have torn his hide<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And streams gush from each limb and side,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He rushes on them in despair<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And tosses them full high in air,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But others rush on him and pull<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Down to the earth that glorious bull;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On the flesh of this noble beast<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their bloody jaws they soon do feast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Full worthy of a better fate<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Far from his herd and his dear mate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who now do look for him in vain<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His bones do whiten now the plain.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span></p>
+<h2>BEAR HUNT.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:25em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Two youths came over from York state,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bill Brown and Tom Dawes his mate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For many months they were wishing<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The sport of hunting and of fishing.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">They rowed along the lake in punt,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When tired of fishing they would hunt,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At river's mouth they caught fine trout,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In woods close by they saw bear's snout.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In front of her play little chubs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fat and slick her darling cubs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Kind thoughts in their breasts they smother<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And cruelly they shoot the mother.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And bullet fearful tore her jaws,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A bloody wound, but with her paws,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Erect in air an awful sight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She was prepared for her young to fight.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But this did not daunt bold Bill Brown,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With club he tried to knock her down,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But she gave him an awful hug,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With paws she at him fierce did tug.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He would been smothered but for Dawes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who rescued him from her great paws,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With club he knocked her on the crown<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And thus he saved the life of Brown.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">She rose again with savage frown<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And quickly broke two ribs for Brown,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His clothes were all torn with her claws,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She smeared with blood both Brown and Dawes.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But Dawes now quick doth end the strife<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By stabbing her with hunting knife,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And now around this hunter bold<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His bear skin coat keeps out the cold.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>COON HUNTING.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Canadians oft by light of moon<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Love to go a hunting coon,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But this our tale it is no yarn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While chopping down tree Henry Karn<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Found therein a hollow chamber<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Full of coons who there did clamber,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It made them a home superior,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Warm and snug in the interior.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And he did count therein eleven<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who long had found it a safe haven,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But it is sad to read their fate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For out of them he slaughtered eight.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But trouble to him now occurs<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What shall he do with those fine furs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shall he grand overcoat display<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or make them into robe for sleigh.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span></p>
+<h2>SAILOR'S YARN.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:22em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">While voyaging on northern seas<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For days we could not catch a breeze,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But were held fast as if in vice<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Surrounded by the bergs of ice,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We could not move the ship or boat<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But on low, flat iceberg we did float;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of provisions we took good store<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With big oars we rowed the berg to shore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And pride and joy each one feels<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When we had caught ten thousand seals,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And our brave boys each one they dare<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To boldly capture great white bear;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On floating berg we built with boards<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A storehouse for to hold our hordes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We had a stove and stock of coal,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So we enjoyed this voyage droll,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In centre of berg we dug a hole<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And erected a strong pole,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The frost and ice soon held it fast<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And well it served us for a mast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On which we stretched out our sails<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And scud along before the gales,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Until we came to an island<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And on its sides it seemed highland,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Britain being queen of seas,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For her this island we did seize,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To give her new coaling station<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For to benefit the nation,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So when we had sailed landward<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We erected British standard<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On the highest mountain top,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which graceful down to sea did slope,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We cast our anchor in its side<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So to explore it far and wide,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But what was our astonishment<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Without the least admonishment,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our island soon away did float<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As if it was a mighty boat.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Can you believe this wondrous tale?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It proved to be a monster whale,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And o'er the ocean quick it flew<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With our great iceberg and our crew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Until it came to Newfoundland,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where all did safe on the ground land;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Poor whale was stranded on the beach<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And his sea home no more could reach,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our crew in great wealth each on shares,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By selling whale and seals and bears,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We hired steam tug to reach our ship,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now free from ice we had quick trip,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And she being loaded down with seal,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And we all shared in common weal,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For joy each of us had reason,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Making two trips in one season.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span></p>
+<h2>HUNTERS AND TRAPPERS.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:23em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Two hunters near to Hudson Bay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their names John Grant and Tom McKay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their skill and courage naught could daunt,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The boldest one perhaps was Grant.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The winter was their busy time,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When all was snow and frost and rime,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It paid best then to pull trigger,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For then furs were better thicker.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">While setting trap Grant cut through boot<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And quick the blood gushed from his foot,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The horrid scene, now who can paint,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For loss of blood soon makes him faint.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But his kind partner Tom McKay<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The rush of blood he tried to stay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And when its flow did somewhat slack<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He carried him upon his back.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">As homeward he doth slowly go,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A track of blood is o'er the snow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But long and weary is the way<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And soon exhausted is McKay.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He feels assistance he doth want,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For to rescue his dear friend Grant,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He stood him up against a tree<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While the blood yet flowed quite free.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Now wolves had visited the trap<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And blood from snow they eager lap,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then tracked poor Grant, for on the snow<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The blood in heavy drops did flow.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He soon got help, then John McKay<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Doth hurry back without delay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And what a sight then met their gaze<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Filled them with horror and amaze.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The sight their minds will ever haunt,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mangled by wolves was their friend Grant,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But round him several wolves were slain<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With bullet holes right through their brain.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For he had fought hard for his life,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And some he slew with hunting knife,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And he is still quite surrounded,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While fierce brutes are badly wounded.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Now clubs doth soon dash out their brains<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And then they gather Grant's remains,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They cut two saplings both same size,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With twigs they lace them acrosswise.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">So it then made for the poor dead<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A good soft and pliable bed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now to his home remains they bear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where his poor wife is in despair.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span></p>
+<h2>WILD GOOSE SHOT AT MIDNIGHT, NOV., 1888.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:21em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">From the regions of the north<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where the waters now are frozen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Towards the south they issue forth<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A flock of wild geese of four dozen.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But when they flew o'er the river Thames<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They swooped down to take a dive,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But sport with shot gun at them aims<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And one at least did not survive.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And he now says it tasted fine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And that it was both fat and big,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A hungry man did on it dine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Satisfied with just one leg.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He was sorry fowl to kill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But they awoke him from his slumber,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The air with cackle they did fill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And thus they lost one of their number.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span></p>
+<h2>ADVENTURES WITH BEARS.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:22em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I bought of land two miles square,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I knew not it contained a bear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I never thought there would be any,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But alas, I found many;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The bush was thick and mat and tangle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It made it a perfect jungle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But one mile square of good dry land<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Was enough for me to take in hand;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Swamp I could reach but when frozen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then I saw bears by the dozen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thick as monkies in Africa,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And many a strange trick I saw,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gamboling with the greatest ease,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">High up the trunks of the big trees,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While some were swinging from branches<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And hanging on them with their haunches;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But quietly I then tilled my farm,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The bears at first done me no harm,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till one night I was roused by dogs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And found a bear was at my hogs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He threw a pig across each shoulder<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And there I was a sad beholder,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But to the house I quickly run<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For to procure my loaded gun,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And as he could not run but slow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So heavy laden through the snow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I him full soon did overtake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And his courage quick I did shake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For by the leg my good bold dog<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He bravely caught the thievish rogue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And this move made him soon fork o'er<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To me at once the largest porker,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For moment squeeze it did pig stun,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But up he rose and quick he run,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The bear now scared his only hope,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To let at once the other pig drop,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I shot the bear right through the eyes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And secured a valued prize,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There's nothing I love so to eat<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In winter time as the bear's meat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So a victory I soon won<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And sold for high price grease and skin;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The bears on honey love to thrive,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One morn was wrecked my best beehive,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That day I was to sell the honey<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For to raise some ready money,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But bear my views he did despise<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And proudly carried off the prize;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That night I set a good spring gun,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With rails I built for him a run,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Open all way to hive of bees,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He tried again a hive to seize,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But all his efforts were in vain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He sprung the gun and he was slain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O'er the fact I felt quite funny<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It well repaid me for my honey;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One bear was playing on me joke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Carrying off all my young stock,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I set my trap, built round it fence,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Resolved he ne'er would get from thence,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But at the first he did me hoax,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For he was cunning as a fox,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He dug under and stole my bait,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But I next sunk trap and sealed his fate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My good iron trap again it caught<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A great bear but it came to naught,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Breakfast he had at my expense<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And he then showed wondrous sense,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Trap he picked up with greatest ease<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And dashed it to pieces on the trees,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But blacksmith soon did it repair<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For I was bound to have that bear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I attached to trap a heavy clog,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It was like lifting a small log,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I drove in it some sharp iron spikes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which would cut deep each time he strikes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He tried again to steal my bait<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And break my trap at the old rate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But he soon dashed out his own brains,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His carcass it brought me great gains;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A neighbour man who would not work<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I thought that he did steal my pork,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But at last I found long black hairs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then I knew it was the bears,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I put through barrels rods of iron<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So they a bear neck would environ,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And rods together they would snap,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I found him choked quite dead in trap,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Since then my strife with bears did cease,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now many years I've lived in peace.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span></p>
+<h2>QUEEN'S JUBILEE ODE, 1887.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:21em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Canada proves her devotion<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To her who rules o'er land and sea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For loyal thoughts do hearts inspire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To make more glorious empire.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">'Tis fifty years since Queen was crowned,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her brow with golden circlet bound,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She was a girl, graceful, fair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And has felt joy and anxious care.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Happy years of married life<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She enjoyed as Albert's wife,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But Albert died, the wise and good,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And she was left in widowhood.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In her reign the power of steam<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On land and sea became supreme,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And all now have strong reliance<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In fresh victories of science.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For man doth lightning now employ<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And uses it for message boy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And when he wants a brilliant light,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Electric orbs do shine most bright.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Britain's empire is extending,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Truth and justice ever blending,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">May strife and discord ever cease,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And jubilee inaugurate peace.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span></p>
+<h2>WARS IN QUEEN VICTORIA'S REIGN.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:23em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We will now sing in thoughtful strain<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of wars in Queen Victoria's reign.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Russian bear did ages lurk,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All ready for to spring on Turk,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For Russian statesmen did divine<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That they should conquer Constantine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But like a greyhound after hare<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Lion did drive back the Bear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And made it feel the British rule<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At gates of strong Sebastopol.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then insolent was Persia,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till Lion had to dictate law,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And while engaged in scenes like these<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He was attacked by the Chinese,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And for this outrage all so wanton<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He then resolved to seize on Canton.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But soon there came a dismal cry<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of slaughter'd Britons from Delhi,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Bengal Tiger sick with gore<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Did tremble at the Lion's roar,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But Britain got a serious shock<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By losing of brave Havelock,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But Campbell 'mid a numerous foe<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Full quick these armed hosts did o'erthrow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In Abyssinian dungeons vile<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lay captives of Great Britain's isle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But soon the tyrant Theodore<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lay sadly weltering in his gore.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The savage tribes of Ashantee<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From British troops did quickly flee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In Afghan and Zulu wars<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Many did find their deadly scars;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the land of the Pharaohs<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Christians suffered cruel woes,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till in Alexandria Bay<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The British iron clads did display,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The mighty power they did wield,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While their steel sides from harm did shield,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And British army on the land<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Marched bravely o'er the burning sand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Arabi found 'twas useless labor,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His strong trench of Tel-el-Kebir,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Egyptians did not wish to feel<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In their breasts cold British steel,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their great power was soon laid low<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Wolseley entered Grand Cairo.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Egyptians now no more revile<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Christians on the banks of Nile.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We have sung three heroes' names.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Havelock from the land of Thames,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Campbell from the banks of Clyde,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Wolseley from Liffy's side,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When rose, thistle, shamrock unite<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They do prove victors in the fight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now Britain once more does command<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Respect alike on sea and land,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But now may wars forever cease<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And mankind ever live in peace.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CRIMEAN WAR.</h2>
+
+<p>At the announcement that Britain was to declare war Kossuth the
+Hungarian Patriot declared in an address in England that the British
+Lion was a sea dog but helpless on land.</p>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:31em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When the British Lion offered aid to the Turk,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Round many lips a sneer of serious doubt did lurk,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They said he was at home on sea, but when on land<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He would be as a ship wrecked upon the strand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or like some huge ungainly crocodile<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Upon the marshy banks of sluggish Nile,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who could move gaily on the deep<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But on dry land could scarcely creep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But up the Alma heights he rushed like greyhound after hare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in a moment by the throat he seized the Russian bear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which begged so hard for mercy his life he did it spare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And closely now it is confined within its native lair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For its strong fortress of Sebastpol<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Was forced to submit to Great Britain's rule.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>INDIAN MUTINY.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:24em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">British infants who were nobly born<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Were from their bleeding mother's bosom torn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And with the bayonet dashed upon the street<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There left to lie for native dogs to eat.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But the British Lion he quick o'erthrew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Both the high and the low Hindoo,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now they respect the Christian laws<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For fear of British Lion's paws.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span></p>
+<h2>BEAR AND WHALE.</h2>
+
+<p class="center">A fable of the British and Russian dispute of 1885.</p>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:23em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Russians suffer sad distress<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For lack of freedom of the press,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But oft' times they are full able<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To enlighten with a fable.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And they enjoy a humorous tale<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of a bear and monster whale,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The bear he went to the sea shore<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The mighty ocean to explore.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And this it quick enraged the whale<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who beat the ocean with his tail,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With foaming words he told the bear<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That he would strip his hide and hair.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">If he ever found him more<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Encroaching on his sea shore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The bear replied I will not quail<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At frothing words of any whale.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For you are a lump of blubber,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whale rejoined you are land lubber,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thus bandying epithets so vile,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of bear grease and of whale oil.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Sharks and fishes of the ocean<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Were thrown into great commotion,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The hawks and eagles of the air,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lions and tigers gathered there.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Bear he wished the whale to slaughter,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But he was afraid of water,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The great whale feared that he might strand<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If he ventured on the dry land.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">So at last great Russia Bear<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Went back again to his own lair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And British whale content to be<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Greatest monarch of the sea.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span></p>
+<h2>GORDON AND BURNABY, 1885.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:21em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When the Chinese did rebel,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gordon alone he could them quell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With justice they his name revere,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The man who bullets did not fear.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">It seemed as if his life had charm<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That spear or lance could never harm,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He went alone this wondrous man<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To fight false prophet of Soudan.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Assistance it arrives too late,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And traitors they have oped the gate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To meet the foe he doth advance,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But fatal wound receives from lance.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And Britons all they do take pride<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In Burnaby's Asiatic ride,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Russian mysteries to discover,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He crossed many a plain and river.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And his brave spirit led the van<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To relieve Gordon in Soudan,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With his strong arm every blow<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Laid at his feet some Arab foe.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But strong brave man who knew no fear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He was transfixed by Arab spear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And thus brave men their lives have lost,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of war let nations never boast.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Unless it is in self defence,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then they have glorious recompense,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But arts of peace they should be prized<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By nations truly Christianized.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span></p>
+<h2>ENGLISH POETS.</h2>
+
+<p class="center">Tercentenary ode on Shakespeare read by the author at the anniversary concert, 1864.</p>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:21em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Three centuries have passed away<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Since that most famous April day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When the sweet, gentle Will was born,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose name the age will e're adorn.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">That great Elizabethan age<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Does not leave on history's page,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A name so bright he stands like Saul,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A head and shoulders over all.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Delineator of mankind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who shows the workings of the mind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in review in nature's glass,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Portrays the thoughts of every class.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">That man is dull who will not laugh<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At the drolleries of Falstaff,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And few that could not shed a tear<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At sorrows of poor old King Lear.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Or lament o'er King Duncan's death<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Stabbed by the dagger of McBeth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or gentle Desdemona pure,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Slain by the misled jealous Moor.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Or great Caesar mighty Roman<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who o'ercame his country's foemen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His high deeds are all in vain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For by his countrymen he's slain.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The greatest of heroic tales<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is that of Harry, Prince of Wales,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who in combat fought so fiercely<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With the brave and gallant Percy.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Imagination's grandest theme<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The tempest or midsummer's dream,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Hamlet's philosophic blaze<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of shattered reason's flickering rays.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And now in every land on earth<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They commemorate Shakespeare's birth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And there is met on Avon's banks<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Men of all nations and all ranks.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And here upon Canadian Thames<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The gentle maids and comely dames<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Do meet and each does bring her scroll<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of laurel leaves from Ingersoll.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+<h3>MILTON.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Like mightiest organ in full tone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Melodious, grand, is great Milton,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He did in lofty measures tell<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How Satan, great archangel, fell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When from heaven downward hurled;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And how he ruined this our world,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So full of guile he did deceive<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our simple hearted parent Eve.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He shows how pardon is obtained<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And paradise may be regained.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span></p>
+<h3>COLERIDGE, SOUTHEY AND WORDSWORTH.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:23em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">England had triplets at a birth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Coleridge, Southey and Wordsworth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And these three are widely famed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the "Lake Poets" they were named.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With joy they did pursue their themes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Mong England's lakes and hills and streams,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From there with gladness they could view<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The distant Scottish mountains blue.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<h3>SHELLY.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We have scarcely time to tell thee<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of the strange and gifted Shelly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Kind hearted man but ill-fated,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So youthful, drowned and cremated.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<h3>BYRON.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Poets they do pursue each theme,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Under a gentle head of steam,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Save one who needed fierce fire on,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The brilliant, <ins title="Original spelling.">pasionate</ins> Byron.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His child Harold's pilgrimage,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Forever will the world engage;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He fought with glory to release<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From Turkish yoke the isles of Greece,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Its glories oft by him were sung,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This wondrous bard, alas, died young.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span></p>
+<h3>TENNYSON.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Of our Laureate we now do sing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His youthful muse had daring wing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He then despised Baronhood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And sang 'twas noble to be good.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">None sang like him of knights of old,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He England's glory did uphold;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In wondrous song he hath arrayed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Glorious charge of light brigade,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And he hath the people's benison,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Greatest of living poets Tennyson.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<h3>DRYDEN AND POPE.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Genius of Dryden and of Pope,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Both did take a mighty scope,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The first he virgil did translate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The second showed us Troys fate.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On English themes they oft did sing<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And high their muses flight did wing.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span></p>
+<h2>POETS AND PHILOSOPHERS.</h2>
+
+
+<h3>Bacon, Hogg, Lamb and Shakespeare.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:22em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Bacon, philosopher profound,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With mighty thoughts his works abound,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Reflections did his mind engage<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Were in advance of his own age.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And Hogg the Ettrick shepherd bard,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">High honors all do him award,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Great fame and glory he did reap<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While tending to his flock of sheep.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And Lamb, the gentle and the good,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His works all show a happy mood;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">About these names there is no waste,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Pleasing to fancy and to taste.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Some critics think they do make clear<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The fact that Bacon wrote Shakespeare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But a gent lives in New York<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Asks what effect will it have on pork.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Of course it would quick awaken<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A higher estimate of Bacon,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But it is folly for to rear<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His fame on ruins of Shakespeare.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Though Will was not college bred,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With Greek they did not cram his head,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But he well knew by translations<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The history of the ancient nations.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And mingled daily in the strife<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With people in all walks of life,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His plays they are to nature true<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Because he wrote of what he knew.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Alas that I have wandered here and there"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He does cry out in his despair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While he did lead a wandering life<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And left alone his loving wife.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>IRISH POETS.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:22em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Moore found the ballads of Green Isle<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Were oft obscured beneath the soil,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As miner digging in a mine<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Finds rubbish 'mong the gold so fine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So Moore placed dross in the waste basket<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And enshrined jewels in casket,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where all may view each charming gem<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In Ireland's grand old diadem.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In eastern lands his fame prevails<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In wondrous oriental tales,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So full of gems his Lala Rookh,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hindoos and Brahmins read his book,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And dark eyed Persian girls admire<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The beauty of his magic lyre,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Glowing like pearls of great price<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Those distant gleams of paradise.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He sang of Bryan Borohm's glory,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Renowned in ancient Irish story,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And shows the wide expanded walls<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which once encircled Tara's Halls,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When joyous harp did there resound<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Ireland's greatest king was crowned,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All wars and tumults then did cease,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ireland did prosper great in peace.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He sung of meeting of the waters<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And of Ireland's charming daughters,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Great minstrel from his harp both flows,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ireland's triumphs and her woes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Canada doth his fame prolong<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While she doth sing his great boat song,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And his own countrymen adore<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The genial, witty, bright Tom Moore.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<h3>OLIVER GOLDSMITH.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Goldsmith wrote of deserted village,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now again reduced to tillage,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Once happiest village of the plain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The place you look for it in vain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There but one man he doth make rich,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While hundreds struggle in the ditch,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His honest vicar of Wakefield,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Forever he will pleasure yield.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span></p>
+<h2>SCOTTISH POETS.</h2>
+
+<p>The following ode was read by the author at the Centennial Anniversary
+of Burns in the year 1859.</p>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">This night shall never be forgot<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For humble life none now despise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Since Burns was born in lowly cot<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose muses wing soars to the skies.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">'Round Scotia's brow he wove a wreath<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And raised her name in classic story<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A deathless fame he did bequeath,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His country's pride, his country's glory.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He sang her hills, he sang her dales,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of Bonnie Doon and Banks of Ayr,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of death and Hornbook and such tales<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As Tam O'Shanter and his mare.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He bravely taught that manly worth<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">More precious is than finest gold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He reckoned not on noble birth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But noble deeds alone extolled.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Where will we find behind the plow<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or in the harvest field at toil<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Another youth, sweet bard, like thou,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Could draw the tear or raise the smile.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We do not think 'twas Burns' fault,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For there were no teetotalers then,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That Willie brewed a peck of malt<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Robin preed like other men.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">'Tis true he loved the lasses dear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But who for this would loudly blame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For Scotia's maids his heart did cheer<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And love is a true heavenly flame.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">So here we've met in distant land<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Poor honest Robin to extol,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though oft we differ let us stand<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">United now in Ingersoll.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span></p>
+<h2>BURNS AND SCOTT IN EDINBURGH.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When Burns did make triumphant entry<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Mong Edina's famous gentry,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A discussion did there arise<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Among those solons learned and wise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">About some lines by a new poet.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The author's name none did know it,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Poem was of Canadian snow<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And how o'er it the blood did flow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For it had then been swept by war<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where armies met in deadly jar.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But 'mong philosophers was boy<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of tender years now Scotland's joy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He there did quickly quote each line<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And author's name he did define,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Burns glanced at him with loving eyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Youth ever more that look did prize,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The happiest moment in his lot<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ever revered by Walter Scott.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thus Scotlands greatest poets met,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And they did part with sad regret.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>LINES ON SOUTH OF SCOTLAND.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:22em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The South of Scotland did produce<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Heroic Wallace and the Bruce,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And even time will never blot<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The record of her Burns and Scott,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Tanahill renowned bard,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And that sweet songster Ettrick Shepherd.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span></p>
+<h2>REPLY TO THE TOAST OF SCOTTISH POETS.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Burns sang so sweet behind the plow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Daisies we'll wreath around his brow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Musing on thee what visions throng,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of floods you poured of Scottish song.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Scott he did write romancing rhymes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of chivalry of ancient times;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For tender feeling none can cope<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With Campbell the sweet Bard of hope.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Eye with sympathetic tear in<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will shed it for Exile of Erin,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Tannahill while at his loom<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wove flowers of song will ever bloom.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hogg, Ettrick Shepherd, did gain fame<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By singing when the kye comes hame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With good time coming Bard McKay<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Still merrily doth cheer the way.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span></p>
+<h2>JAMES HOGG.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:21em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The wondrous shepherd James Hogg<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Was happy with his good sheep dog,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Meditating o'er his sweet lays<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While his fleecy flocks did graze.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">His education it came late<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">After he reached to man's estate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While his flocks were busy feeding<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His favourite authors he was reading.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Wondrous tales he did rehearse<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of witches both in prose and verse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And he in fairy tales did glory<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Traditions of each shepherd's story.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The shepherd he sang late and early<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of the deeds of bold Prince Charley,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And how the charming bonnie Flora<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Soothed the Prince when in his sorrow.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Few songs possess so much vigor<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As his gathering of McGregor,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The lover's heart is all aflame<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To meet lassie when the kye comes hame.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But one who loved the shepherd's songs<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And sang them unto countless throngs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Great Kennedy has passed away<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now mournful is our Scottish lay.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span></p>
+<h2>HIGHLAND SKETCHES.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:22em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The Romans, Saxons and the Danes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Did oft o'er run the Scottish plains.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So daring were those mauraders<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And skilful too were invaders.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The lowland man enjoyed his farm,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But oft he was in great alarm,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When Highlanders o'er plain would sweep<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And drive to hills his steers and sheep.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For highlandmen were taught in song<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The lowlands to them did belong,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each highland chief he ruled like king<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Bards they did his praises sing,<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In war the chief he led the van,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Marching to battle with his clan,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And when the foe attacked their chief<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The clansmen rushed to his relief.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When they King William's forces mass<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In Killicrankie's famous pass,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The highlanders with joy and glee<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rushed on them led by bold Dundee.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Lowland troops they would not tarry<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But they strove to ford the Garry,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Soon many on the field lay dead,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In river floated many a head.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For clansmen with the good broad sword<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of battlefield they soon were Lord,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And historians will rank the<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Chief highland victory of Killicrankie.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Again there sweeps the highland clans,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Victorious at Preston Pans,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Under Prince Charlie full of hope,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They drove the troops were led by Cope.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But from Culloden Charlie flies<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While Highland blood the heather dyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For months he wandered 'mong the hills<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Young Flora strove to soothe his ills.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">While he was hunted by blood hounds,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For sake of thirty thousand pounds,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But Highlanders the gold despise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And honor only each doth prize.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">At last to Charlie's great delight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From France a vessel hove in sight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And safely bore the gallant Prince<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To the sunny shores of France.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And may once more each hill and glen<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Be filled with hardy Highland men,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who love bagpipes and bonnets blue<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And give to Britain soldiers true.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span></p>
+<h2>THE SHIRES ON THE MORAY FRITH.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:24em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Worthy of either song or story<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are the shires round frith of Moray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here lies the valley of Strathspey,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Famed for its music, lively, gay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Elgin cathedral's 'prentice aisle<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is glory of that ruined pile.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What modern chisel now could trace<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fine sculpture of that ancient place,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Forres famed for Sweno's stane<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In honor of that kingly Dane,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Graved with warriors runes and rhymes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Long prior to historic times,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For a thousand years its been forgot<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who was victor Dane or Scot,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It is the country of McBeth<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where good King Duncan met his death,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And barren heath that place of fear<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Stood witches cauldron of Shakespeare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nairn's Cawdor castle strong remains<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Full worthy of the ancient Thanes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And nestled 'neath the hills and bens<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Queen of the moors, the lochs and glens,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Full proudly stands in vale of bliss<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Chief Highland town of Inverness,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Near here the famous falls of Foyers<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where Burns and others tuned their lyres,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the fatal field of dark Culloden<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where doughty clans were once down trodden,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here men yet wear the tartan plaid<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ready to join the Highland Brigade,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And when the Frith you look across<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The eye beholds Sutherland and Ross,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where Duke has harnessed mighty team,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Plows hills and rocks and moors by steam,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Perhaps it may in part atone<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For cruel clearings days bygone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Cromarty, whose wondrous mason,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">First learned his geologic lesson,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Friends may rear a stately pillar,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The old red sand stone of Hugh Miller,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ben Wyvis towers like monarch crowned,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Conspicuous o'er the hills around,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With crest 'ere white with driven snow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Strathpeffer's water cure below.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>LINES READ AT A SCOTTISH ANNIVERSARY AT EMBRO.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:23em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Scotsmen have wandered far and wide<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From Moray Frith to Frith of Clyde,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">McDonald from his sea girt isle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Campbell from his broad Argyle.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But chiefly here you have come forth<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From those counties of the north,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some oft have trod Dunrobins halls<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And gazed upon its stately walls.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Here to night in this array<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is Murray, McKenzie and McKay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And there doth around us stand<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Munroe, Ross and Sutherland.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Your young men have high honor earned<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In all of the professions learned,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Your bonnie lasses sung in song,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And youths are famed for muscle strong.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span></p>
+<h2>LINES READ AT ST. ANDREW'S ANNIVERSARY, 1868.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Scotia's sons to-night we meet thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With kindly feelings we do greet thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In honor of the land of heather,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Around this board to-night we gather.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Land where the fields for border edges,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Have garlands of blooming hedges,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Land of the whin and of the broom<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And where the bonnie blue bells bloom.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Land where you may enraptured hark<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To heavenly song of the skylark,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which soars triumphant in the skies<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Above the gaze of human eyes.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Land of bleak hills and fertile dales,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where they tell oft their fairy tales,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Land where the folks do love the kirk<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And on the Sabbath cease from work.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Land of porridge and of brose,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of blue bonnets and of tartan hose,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The land where all good wives do bake<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The thrifty, wholesome, oaten cake.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We hope some day to tread the strand<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of our own dear native land,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And o'er the sea we'll some day sail<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To get a bowl of good green kail.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span></p>
+<h2>DICK AND EDWARD.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The Thurso baker Robert Dick<a name="FNanchor_E_5" id="FNanchor_E_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_E_5" class="fnanchor">[E]</a><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Armed with his hammer and his pick,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dame nature's secrets did reveal,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which she for ages did conceal.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In Banff has genius found regard<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the person of an Edward,<a name="FNanchor_F_6" id="FNanchor_F_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_F_6" class="fnanchor">[F]</a><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who now does rank among the first<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the world as naturalist.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_E_5" id="Footnote_E_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_E_5"><span class="label">[E]</span></a> Dick was both a geologist and botanist and was of great service
+to Hugh Millar.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_F_6" id="Footnote_F_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_F_6"><span class="label">[F]</span></a> Edward is a shoemaker by trade, remarkable for his knowledge
+of the lower grades of animated nature.</p></div>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>CASTLE GORDON.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In youth we spent a pleasant day<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Round Castle Gordon on the Spey,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There is no Clan can gird the sword on,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Can compare with the Clan Gordon,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In India, China and Soudan,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They manfully have led the van.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span></p>
+<h2>PRINCE CHARLIE'S GRANDSONS.</h2>
+
+<p class="center">Oft' times these handsome gentlemen appeared in the garb of old Gaul.</p>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:24em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Long 'ere Her Majesty the Queen<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Had visited of Aberdeen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Ere she in castle did abide<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Mong glorious hills on the Dee side,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or visited each Highland glen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or won the hearts of Highland men,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here oft' was seen in celtic dress<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Two Stewarts brave in Inverness,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Well worthy of the poet's lyre.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They claimed Prince Charlie as grandsire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And that they also did combine<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Stuart with Royal Polish line,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their names Sobieskie, Stuart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They won many a Highland heart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But Royal order did go forth<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To build Balmoral Castle North,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then wondrous change was quickly seen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All hearts were captured by the Queen.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<p>The Royal Stuarts are owners of large estates on the banks of the
+Findhorn and their great rivals were near by the Royal Comyns. The
+Lion Hunter Gordon Comyn was of this stock. Professor J. S. Blockie
+has written a fine poem on the wars of the rival houses.</p>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:26em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Here where the dark water'd stream rushes free,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">child of the mountain."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span></p>
+<h2>ST. ANDREW.</h2>
+
+<p class="center">Read at Anniversary.</p>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:22em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Our ancient custom to renew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We meet to honor St. Andrew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He was of the Jewish nation,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A fisherman by occupation;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No warlike knight with lance and sword<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But humbly following his Lord;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Scotia she justly claims<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her soil contains his last remains,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In early times the Pilgrims drew<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Into the shrine of St. Andrew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For miracles it gained renown,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And thence sprang up St. Andrew's town;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now clansmen twine round maple leaf,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When rallying at the call of chief,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And time will come when we'll be one,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And proud of name Canadian,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But Scotia must not be forgot<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For sake of Chalmers, Burns and Scott,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But here upon Canadian soil<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A man may own where he doth toil,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For here each may enjoy the charm<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of owning fine prairie farm.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Entwining of the thistle around the maple tree, Scotia's sons have
+indented their names deep in Canadian history. The names of McDonald,
+McKenzie, Cameron and Mowat stand conspicuous, and Brown
+second to none. For wealth, enterprise and benevolence those Montreal
+Scotsmen stand high, Sir Donald A. Smith, Sir George Stephens
+and Duncan McIntyre.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span></p>
+<h2>RIVER CLYDE.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:24em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The Glasgow people do take pride<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In their river both deep and wide,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In early times the youth and maid<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Did o'er its shallow waters wade.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But city money did not grudge,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And dug it deep with the steam dredge,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And now proudly on its bosom floats<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The mighty ships and great steamboats.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">No wonder citizens take pride<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For they themselves have made the Clyde,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Great and navigable river,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where huge fleets will float forever.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Dunbarton's lofty castle rock<a name="FNanchor_G_7" id="FNanchor_G_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_G_7" class="fnanchor">[G]</a><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which oft' has stood the battle's shock,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The river it doth boldly guard,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So industry may reap reward.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But more protection still they deem<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is yet required so down the stream<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Strong batteries are erected,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So commerce may be safe protected.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Old ocean now he doth take pride<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To see upon his bosom ride<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The commerce of his youngest bride,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The fair and lovely charming Clyde.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_G_7" id="Footnote_G_7"></a>
+<a href="#FNanchor_G_7"><span class="label">[G]</span></a> Mr. James Sinclair of this town has written a fine piece remonstrating
+against the removal of the sword of Wallace from its old place
+of safety, Dunbarton Castle.</p></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span></p>
+<h2>ELF SHOT.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:22em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A lad brought up in Highland vale<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who did believe each fairy tale,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which his grannie oft' to him told,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And of witches and of warlocks bold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And he himself would often pour<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For hours reading wizard lore.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One night his mother to the town<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In a hurry sent him down,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So o'er his pony he did stride,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And to the town did fearful ride,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He thought that demons they would rush<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On him from every rock and bush,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And as he rode through the quarry<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It did great increase his flurry,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He felt that fiends with fiercest hate<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Would surely there seal fast his fate.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But town he reached and 'neath his vest<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He parcel pressed close to his breast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The pony now he mounts once more<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For to pass quarry as before,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But, alas, at that fatal spot<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He heard a gun, he was elf shot,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He felt that from his breast a flood<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Was pouring down of his heart's blood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But he clung fast to pony's back,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though loss of blood his frame did rack,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But in spite of his alarms<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He resolved to die in mother's arms,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And when he reached his own door<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He said that he was drenched in gore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From bullet hole all in his breast.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His father opened up his vest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And he did sadly fear the worst<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But found yeast bottle had but burst.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span></p>
+<h2>HALLOWE'EN.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:22em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A tale we'll tell of what hath been<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When maids and youths kept Hallowe'en,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It is a tale of old world lore<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What happened in the days of yore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When fairies danced upon the green<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So merrily on Hallowe'en,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And witches did play many a trick<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Assisted by their auld friend Nick,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And lovers meet around the fire<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Near to the one their hearts desire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For to burn nuts for to discover<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The truthfulness of their lover.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They first did give each nut a name,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This was Sandy, that was Jane.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If they did blaze side by side,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She knew her husband, he his bride,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But if one up the chimney flew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One knew the other was not true.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And one sure test did never fail,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Blindfold to find good stock of kale,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To pull the first comes to the hand<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With heavy roots of earth and sand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For the very weight of mould<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Does denote weight of lovers gold.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In tubs children love to splatter,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ducking for apples in the water,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For such were the delights of yore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which soon will cease for evermore;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At Balmoral Castle Britain's Queen<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oft' celebrated Hallowe'en,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But Highland landlords now do clear<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Land of men to make room for deer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But here upon Canadian soil<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A man may own where he doth toil.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span></p>
+<h2>AMERICAN POETS.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:22em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Like fruit that's large and ripe and mellow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sweet and luscious is Longfellow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Melodious songs he oft did pour<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And high was his Excelsior.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He shows in his Psalm of Life<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The folly of our selfish strife,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With Hiawatha we bewail<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His suffering in great Indian tale.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Indian nation was forlorn<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till great spirit planted corn;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His story of Evangeline<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It is a tale of love divine.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<h3>POE.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:17em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A great enchanter too is Poe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His bells do so harmonious flow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wondrous mystery of his raven<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On our minds is 'ere engraven,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His <ins title="Original spelling.">wierd</ins>, wonderful romances<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Imagination oft entrances.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<h3>LOWELL.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">With pleasure we would love to dwell<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On the charming themes of Lowell.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span></p>
+<h3>BRYANT.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:17em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Some in front rank will defiant,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Boldly place the poet Bryant.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<h3>WHITTIER.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:22em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Others seek for music in the twitter<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of the sweet, charming notes of Whittier.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<h3>SAXE.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:17em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The mind that's sad it doth relax<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The humor of the witty Saxe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He puts us in a cheerful mood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mirthful as our own Tom Hood.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<h3>WILL CARLETON.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In homely apparel one<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Clothes farming songs Will Carleton,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But they have a manly ring<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And we his praises hearty sing.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<h3>MILLAR.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And Millar poet of Sierras,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For bold deeds he doth prepare us,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And now he lives by the golden gate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Honored in California's state,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To poet 'tis position grand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Commissioner of Forest land.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<h3>HOLMES.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:21em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">O'er flowery fields full oft he roams,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The learned and pleasing genial Holmes.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span></p>
+<h3>WALT WHITMAN.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For erratic style he leads van,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wildly wayward Walt Whitman,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He done grand work in civil war,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For he did dress many a scar,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And kindly wet the hot parched mouth<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of Northern soldiers wounded South.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>LOFTY ACTORS WITHDRAW.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:28em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">As one by one the lofty actors of the age<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Withdraw from changing play on history's page,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The act of war and peace of old and new contending<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For it is long 'ere there's harmonious blending.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And many a noble actor brave and bold<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hath perished in the fight between the new and old,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The victor and the vanquished Lincoln and Lee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The former he four million slaves set free.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The latter General fought with bravery and science,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The first he on the Lord placed strong reliance,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in the justice of his cause he bade the North<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As grand emancipators they should issue forth.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And o'er great North the conquering name of Grant<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His mighty deeds of valour they 'ere more will chant,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And now doth pass from stage this last named actor,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In crushing Southern slavery potent factor.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span></p>
+<h2>UNITED STATES.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The United States is wondrous land,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Within its mighty borders grand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They are a world unto themselves,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In South the Negro plows and delves.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Raising tobacco, sugar, cotton,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Grapes and rice too may be gotten,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The west for corn, cattle and swine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On which millions o'er the world dine.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The silver hills of Colorado,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Equaled only by Nevada,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And o'er the world you can't behold<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Aught like California's mines of gold.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">To vast extent her exports reaches,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of grapes and oranges and peaches,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Florida the land of flowers<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is famous for its orange bowers.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Pennsylvania's hills environ<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wondrous mines of coal and iron,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Great marvel of these modern days,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All you require yourselves could raise.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But still Canadians are content<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With their own half of continent,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though Uncle Sam is most wealthy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Canada's content and healthy.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Sam and her are blood relation,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sprung alike from British nation,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">May peaceful odes alone be sung<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Tween people of one race and tongue.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When Canada's ten million strong,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then none will dare to do her wrong,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Either as a youthful nation<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or in Imperial Federation.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CALEDONIA SPRINGS, NEW YORK.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:23em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The water spouts up from the ground<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And there doth form a pond around,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Tis fed from no apparent rills,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And it near by drives several mills.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And here the little ponds are seen<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where fish are <ins title="Original spelling.">propogate</ins> by Green,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fish hatcheries here had their birth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And now they're spread o'er all the earth.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Here in each pond thousands of trout<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rush around their circular route,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of various breeds, age and size,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Speckled o'er with various dyes.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Geologists do gaze with pride<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On specimens all petrified,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here church is built of those rare stone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fish, reptiles, birds, in days bygone.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Strange thoughts in mind it doth awake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As it is far from sea and lake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Even the hill tops do abound<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With proofs here flowed the sea profound.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">With reverence we gaze around<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On an ancient burial ground,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Those who once did tread the heather<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now rest quietly here together.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span></p>
+<h2>LOCAL SKETCHES.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:22em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">On grassy amphitheatre,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Spectators sit to view the war,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Mong bold contestants on the plain<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where each doth strive the prize to gain.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Come witness the great tug of war,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And see great hammer thrown afar,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">See running, jumping, highland fling,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At concert hear the skylark sing.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And the bagpipes will send thrills,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like echoes from the distant hills,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the bold sound of the pibroch,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which does resound o'er highland loch.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Young men and maids and fine old dames<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will gather on the banks of Thames,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And though we have a tug of war<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Twill leave no wound or deadly scar.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>GREAT FIRE IN INGERSOLL, MAY, 1872.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">'Twas on a pleasant eve in May,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Just as the sun shed its last ray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The bell it rang, citizens to warn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For lo! a fire appears in barn.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">An ancient barn near hotel stood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The joining buildings all were wood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This barn a relic of the past,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There farmers' horses were made fast.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Our once fair town is now in woe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And we have had our Chicago,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But soon a nobler town will rise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For our town is all enterprise.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span></p>
+<h2>MASONIC LINES READ AT A BANQUET, 1884.</h2>
+
+
+<p class="center">The prominent names in Masonry are Kings Solomon and Hiram and St. John.</p>
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:22em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Craft of King Hiram and St. John,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They figurative work on stone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">King Hiram he is the old sire<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And he was famous King of Tyre.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But great as King upon a throne<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is the good, kind, true St. John,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cathedrals did craftsmen raise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fills all our minds now with amaze.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">No modern chisel has the power<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To trace such leaf, and bud, and flower,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But though our structures now are rude<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let us all make the mortar good.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And this injunction never spare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To have the work both plumb and square,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And it must have no crack nor flaw,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So masters will lay down the law.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Of all our work this is the chief,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To give the needy ones relief,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And with truth and brotherly love<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We sublime structure raise above.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The greatest honor has been won<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By that great builder Solomon,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And craftsmen o'er the world do sing<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The praises of that mighty King.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span></p>
+<h2>ODDFELLOWSHIP LINES READ AT CONCERT, 1883.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:22em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We look in vain for our Past Grands,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now scattered over many lands,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now some o'er the wide world do rove,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And some have joined Grand Lodge above,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But ever since Father Adams' fall<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We are dependent creatures all,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though man is weak yet he may join<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With others strength for to combine.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The illustration it is grand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Five Oddfellows in one hand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And yet they all united stand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each finger hath a different length,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each finger varies in its strength,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each one is weak, but a firm fist,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You can scarcely break or twist,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Tis same with members of a lodge,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">United them you cannot budge.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then let us linked with pleasant chain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Friendship, love and truth maintain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And aid our brothers in distress,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The widows and the orphans bless,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then let each lodge strive all it can,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Both Oxford and Samaritan<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To aid distressed brother man,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Extending influence for good,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And universal brotherhood.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span></p>
+<h2>ADVICE TO A LITTLE GIRL.</h2>
+
+<p>The following lines were written at the request of a little girl,
+who said she would recite them at a Sunday School entertainment.
+Prof. J. S. Blackie of Edinburgh, in a letter acknowledging the receipt
+of my book, said he considered this piece worthy of being committed to
+memory in the public schools. Sir Daniel Wilson of Toronto University
+also approves of them as containing good sentiments and should be
+impressed on the minds of the young.</p>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:26em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Dressing in fashion will be called vain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And they'll call you a dowdy if you are plain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But do what is right, let that be the test,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then proudly hold up your head with the best.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">For people will talk.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">You will never be wrong if you do what is right,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And this course pursue with all of your might,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And if you're a child going to school,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or full grown up take this for your rule.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">For people will talk.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The best way to do is to let them rave<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And they'll think more of you if you are brave,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For no one will ever think you are rude<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If you are determined for to be good.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">For people will talk.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Little girl on her way to Sunday School class,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rude boys sometimes will not let her pass,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But if they see she is not afraid<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They soon will respect the brave little maid.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">For people will talk.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Little girls should learn to knit and to sew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then if to womanhood they ever grow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their hose they can knit and make their own dress,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And pathway of life for others they bless.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">For people will talk.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And their homes they should make tidy and neat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Everything should be so clean and so sweet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This line for ourselves out we will chalk<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And we are determined in it to walk.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">For people will talk.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>IN MEMORIAM.</h2>
+
+<p>Lines on the death of my only son, who died on the 5th of July,
+1876, on the anniversary of his mother's death.</p>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">His mother from celestial bower,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the self-same day and hour<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of her death or heavenly birth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gazed again upon the earth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And saw her gentle, loving boy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Once source of fond maternal joy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In anguish on a couch of pain.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She knew that earthly hopes were vain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And beckoned him to realms above<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To share with her the heavenly love.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span></p>
+<h2>PROVIDENTIAL ESCAPE.</h2>
+
+<p>Providential escape of Ruby and Neil McLeod, children of Angus
+McLeod of this town. Little Neil McKay McLeod, a child of three
+years of age, was carried under a covered raceway, upwards of one
+hundred yards, the whole distance being either covered o'er with roadway,
+buildings or ice.</p>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:22em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A wondrous tale we now do trace<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of little children fell in race,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The youngest of these little dears,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The boy's age is but three years.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">While coasting o'er the treacherous ice,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">These precious pearls of great price,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The elder Ruby, the daughter,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Was rescued from the ice cold water.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But horrid death each one did feel,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Had sure befallen little Neil,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Consternation all did fill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And they cried shut down the mill.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But still no person they could tell<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What had the poor child befel,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The covered race, so long and dark,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of hopes there scarcely seemed a spark.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Was he held fast as if in vice,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wedged 'mong the timbers and the ice,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or was there for him ample room<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For to float down the narrow flume.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Had he found there a watery grave,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or borne along on crest of wave,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Think of the mother's agony wild,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gazing through dark tunnel for her child.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But soon as Partlo started mill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Through crowd there ran a joyous thrill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When he was quickly borne along,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The little hero of our song.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Alas! of life there is no trace,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And he is black all over face,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though he then seemed as if in death,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet quickly they restored his breath.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Think now how mother<a name="FNanchor_H_8" id="FNanchor_H_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_H_8" class="fnanchor">[H]</a> she adored<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her sweet dear child to her restored,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And her boundless gratitude<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unto the author of all good.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_H_8" id="Footnote_H_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_H_8"><span class="label">[H]</span></a> Mrs. Mary McKay McLeod, the author of some fine poems on
+Scottish and Canadian subjects.</p></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span></p>
+<h2>Moral and Reflective.</h2>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>BRAIN ENGRAVINGS.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:22em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Great wonder is the human brain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How it impressions doth retain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Inscribed on it are autographs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And there is also photographs.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And every hill and plain and nook,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It is deep graven in this book,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A great variety here belongs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Snatches of sermons and of songs.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Here you'll find are numerous themes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Both mighty thoughts and foolish dreams,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here love and hope so bright and fair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There hate and doubt and dark despair.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And here is too the bower of bliss,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where youthful lovers first did kiss,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here are memories of childhood<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And of old ages thoughtful mood.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">View well the whole, 'tis a strange sight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Both of suffering and delight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You see the parting with old friend,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And where new hearts with yours do blend.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Greatest blessing, hope of heaven,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For our comfort it is given,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Indented deep in mind of wise<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are glories of the heavenly prize.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span></p>
+<h2>SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:22em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Now let the hero of our song,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Be he who gentle treats the throng,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And would not cruel treat another,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But to each be as to a brother.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And he must have both sense and wit,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And be possessed of strength and grit,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then strong as proof of holy writ,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For to survive he is most fit.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And according to our test,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The fittest only is the best,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">These have a right for to survive,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And well they do deserve to thrive.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And this kind of evolution<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It will bring no revolution,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But revolve in Christian sphere,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where scripture truths are prized and dear.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Give us the man doth persevere,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And presses on in his career,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Undaunted struggling for the right,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though all mankind 'gainst him unite.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Though now on top of highest mount,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where he has found true honour's fount,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet those below he don't despise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But strives to aid them for to rise.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>MOTTO.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Politeness, perseverance and pluck,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To their possessor will bring good luck.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span></p>
+<h2>THINGS SHOULD BE JUDGED BY MERIT.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A picture hung in a public hall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And it was much admired by all,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Painted by a true artist's hand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The subject it was truly grand.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Its fame o'er the whole world resounds,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Valued at ten thousand pounds,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Beauteous lady none 'ere passed her,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She was the work of an old master.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">At last a critic keen did gaze<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And saw 'twas work of modern days,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then quick it was pronounced a daub,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And artist but a money grab.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The true, the noble and the grand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will lend to struggling helping hand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then let no man of dues be shorn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If he a subject doth adorn.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>LINES ON A FOUNTAIN.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:30em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We love cold water as it flows from the fountain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which nature hath brewed alone in the mountain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the wild woods and in the rocky dell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where man hath not been but the deer loves to dwell;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And away across the sea in far distant lands,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In Asia's gloomy jungles and Africa's drifting sands;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where to the thirsty traveller a charming spot of green<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is by far the rarest gem his eyes have ever seen;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And when he has quenched his thirst at the cooling spring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With many grateful songs he makes the air to ring;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For many nights he dreams of this scene of bliss,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And when he thinks of Heaven it is of such as this.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span></p>
+<h2>THE GATES AJAR.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:23em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A good kind man who knew no malice,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Happy with wife and daughter Alice,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">More precious far to him than gold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His little darling six years old.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">True nobleman with many friends,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His career too soon it ends,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The casket friends enshrined with flowers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While soul had fled to heavenly bowers.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The wreaths were lovely, but the star,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Admired by all was gates ajar,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The widow led her little girl<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To where death his dart did hurl.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And stricken her poor father down,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But child exclaimed he's won the crown,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And he will watch for me afar,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And keep for me the gates ajar.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And when we cross the crystal fount,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He will point out the heavenly mount,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here neither sun nor moon doth shine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lighted with radiance all divine.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For I know well for me he'll wait<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Anxious at the pearly gate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For I would fear to view alone<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The glories of the heavenly throne.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Pa will admit his little Alice<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Safe into the heavenly palace,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And glories to me will unfold<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As we tread the streets of gold.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHILD MADE HAPPY.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:23em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In a great city hospital<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There lay poor Mary Crosby small,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She had no friends her heart to cheer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So time with her passed sad and drear.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">She sought for ease but all in vain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Month after month she passed in pain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She had no relative nor friend<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who aid or comfort could her lend.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A surgeon saw her cheerless state,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And deplored the poor child's fate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She tried to make doll of her finger,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And sang to it poor little singer.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Her's indeed was an awful lot,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The weary days she spent in cot,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For the poor child she could not walk,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And it soon exhausted her to talk.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But surgeon bought her ribbon gay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And with it she all day did play,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The giver often she did bless,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And thought sometimes she was princess.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For in it she did take such pride,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She fancied she was beauteous bride,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And was possessed of great riches,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or thought herself a wealthy Duchess.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And she would bind it round her hair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Imagining that she was fair.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But poor child feels that she must die,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She asks the surgeon to come nigh.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And kindly o'er her he doth stand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She asked him for to take her hand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thanked him for ribbon green and blue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then evermore bade him adieu.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span></p>
+<h2>POETRY.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Poetry to us is given,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As stars beautify the Heaven,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or, as the sunbeams when they gleam,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sparkling so bright upon the stream,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the poetry of motion<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is ship sailing o'er the ocean;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or, when the bird doth graceful fly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Seeming to float upon the sky,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For poetry is the pure cream,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And essence of the common theme.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Poetic thoughts the mind doth fill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When on broad plain to view a hill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On barren heath how it doth cheer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To see in distance herd of deer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And poetry breathes in each flower,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nourished by the gentle shower,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In song of birds upon the trees,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And humming of busy bees,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Tis solace for the ills of life,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A soothing of the jars and strife,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For poets feel 'tis a duty<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To sing of both worth and beauty.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>POWER OF LOVE.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:23em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Love it is the precious loom,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose shuttle weaves each tangled thread,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And works flowers of exquisite bloom,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shedding their perfume where we tread.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span></p>
+<h2>HER LOVER'S STEP.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:22em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Step, step, step, 'tis her lover's walk,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She knows his step as well's his talk;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He is the favorite of her choice,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So his step's familiar as his voice.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Step, step, step, she now is wed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And it is now her husband's tread;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His homeward step it cheers her life,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For she is a kind faithful wife.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But he the husband and yet lover,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His steps at last do cease forever;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And she doth soon hear the tread<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of men who do bear out the dead.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Her heart it now doth throb with pain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though she knows sorrow is but vain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For him she never can recall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And no more hear his footsteps fall.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But still she hopes he yet will come<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And visit her in their old home;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But time approaches, she must die,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her husband's footsteps she hears nigh.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Step, step, step, we ne'er shall part,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I hear the echo in my heart;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now happiness dispels the gloom,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Radiant with joy my face doth bloom.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Pain and suffering all are past,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She joyous cried he's come at last;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And soon she breathes out her last breath,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He guides her through the vale of death.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span></p>
+<h2>THE USEFUL WEED.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Do not despise the humble weed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For the Lord He first sowed the seed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Perhaps it bears most precious fruit,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And useful leaves and potent root.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Though it seems now a useless weed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Countless millions it yet may feed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or future ages it may prize,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Finding in it beauteous dyes.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Or a valued healing balm,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will make the heated pulse beat calm,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the future men of science,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">May place on it strong reliance.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And it may play important part,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In advancing skill and art,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And no person now doth know<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How useful are the weeds that grow.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Weeds we now look on with loathing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They may yet be used for clothing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Producing silken glossy coat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or paper fine for the bank note.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But you at present must take heed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And do not grow the cumbrous weed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Either in garden or in field,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where plants with profit now do yield.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span></p>
+<h2>GOLDEN EGG.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:21em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In ancient times we have been told<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A goose did lay an egg of gold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She did produce one every day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So regular this goose did lay.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But her stupid foolish master<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wanted her to lay them faster,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And he at last the goose did kill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gold grist no more came to his mill.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But a strange tale we now unfold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In California's mines of gold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There they keep both hens and chickens,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Mong the gravel scratching pickings.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But hens do find the golden shiner,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is too heavy for their dinner,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For it they cannot well digest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As it lies solid in their breast.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then they are slain and you behold<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In their craw the shining gold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Made up of particles so fine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The purest gold in all the mine.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then how happy is the miner,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When he has sweet fowl for dinner,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And he doth find within its craw,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A little golden bonanza.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And in Ontario the hen<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is worthy of the poet's pen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For she doth well deserve the praise<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bestowed on her for her fine lays.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span></p>
+<h2>LITTLE DORA.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:19em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I tell you what my little Dora,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You do cause my heart to sorrow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tell me now you little misses<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What you do with all your kisses.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I see you get them by the dozen<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From each aunt and little cousin,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Said she I do intend dear pa<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To give them all to you and ma.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And not a single one I'll miss,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But I will give you back each kiss,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And both of you will feel you're blest<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When I pay you interest.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">You'll better in my bank invest<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And put my principle to test,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And you can dividend partake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For my bank will never break.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>LINES ON THE DEATH OF A FARMER'S WIFE.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">This good woman when in this life,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She was kind mother and good wife,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And managed her household with care,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She and her husband happy pair.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And her name it will long be praised<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By the large family she has raised,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She laid up treasures in the skies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And now enjoys the Heavenly prize.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">She rose each morn with happy smile,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And ardent all the day did toil,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For work it to her had a charm,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And busy was each hand and arm.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span></p>
+<h2>FIGHTING FOR HOME.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:23em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A hawk while soaring on the wing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O'er a tiny sparkling spring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Beheld a sleek and beauteous mink,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Was enjoying a bath and drink.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And though the hawk was bent on slaughter<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The mink was more at home on water,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And it is strange this curious quarrel<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All occurred in a sunk barrel.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In the Township of Nissouri,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There the hawk it came to sorrow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But it strove often for to sink,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In vain it strove to drown the mink,<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But mink it did successful balk,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All the attacks were made by hawk,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The bird was drenched, it could not fly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And ne'er again it soared on high.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>LINES WRITTEN IN A MENTAL ALBUM.</h2>
+
+<p class="center">Where each one expressed some sentiment.</p>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In this album you may trace,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If not the lineaments of face,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There at least you will find<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Photographs of the mind.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Some in earnest some in fun,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some do lecture some do pun,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here the maiden and the youth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each proclaim some precious truth.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And there is here some fine pages,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Written by maturer ages,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where they show that time is brief,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That soon comes sere and yellow leaf.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span></p>
+<h2>EVERY ROSE HATH ITS THORN.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:21em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There was a maiden all forlorn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She loved a youth, his name was Thorn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But he was shy for to disclose<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How he loved dear the sweet May Rose.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Lustre sweet it would give to Thorn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If this fair flower would it adorn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Said he all other names above<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Your charming name alone I love.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Said she of beauty 'tis soon shorn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unless that it is joined to Thorn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It very soon doth droop and die,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And she heaved a gentle sigh.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Said he we'll wed to-morrow morn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No more from me you shall be torn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For you will banish all my woes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And near my heart I'll wear the rose.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Now little rose buds they are born,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All clinging to the parent Thorn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In grace and beauty each one grows,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Full worthy of the sweet May Rose.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Some flowers they only shed their bloom<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the sweet month of leafy June,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But May doth bloom each month in year<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A fragrant Rose forever dear.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span></p>
+<h2>DANGER OF FIRE ARMS.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:21em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For to save life one great solver<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Would be to prohibit the revolver,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Weapon of coward and of bully,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who slaughter friends in their folly.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Let now no man or any boy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With loaded arms ever toy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Showing off their manly vigor,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Pointing to friend and pulling trigger.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And sending bullet through their brain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And then exclaim in mournful strain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When friends with grief they are goaded,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I did not know that it was loaded.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Fire arms oft' times do bring woes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And they kill more friends than foes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hunting now o'er fertile fields,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Tis seldom that it profit yields.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>BIRD SENT BY PROVIDENCE.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:21em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A poor man stood beside his door,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His sad fate for to deplore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For landlord's heart would not relent,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And seized his furniture for rent.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He hears song sweet as from fairy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And soon he sees a canary,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Into his cage it did alight<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And poured forth notes sweet and bright.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But owner of the bird did mourn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And sadly longed for its return,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Without it she found no delight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So she did landlord's bill requite.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The poor man thinks the bird was sent<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By the Lord to pay up his rent,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And he now stout maintains from thence<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That there is a kind Providence.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span></p>
+<h2>HELP IN NEED.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A poor man's horse it ran away,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Soon man upon the roadside lay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With his leg all badly broken,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of sympathy some gave token.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">One said your trouble grieves my heart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But with his money would not part,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Another said, while heaving sighs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It brings the tears into mine eyes.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But a good true hearted man,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His heart with kindness it o'er ran,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The poorest man among the three,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A pound he did contribute free.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Others gave in empty feeling,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But this poor man he did bring healing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The giver only Lord doth prize,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who helps afflicted for to rise.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>O FOR A LODGE.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"O for a lodge in some vast wilderness"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A man cried out in his distress,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For he was tired and sick of life,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And weary of this worldly strife,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And longed for to be far away<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From the continuous daily fray.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But the fond partner of his life,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His own dearest, loving wife,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Those sentiments did not admire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For fiercely they did rouse her ire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Said she, I'll never let you budge<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To go and join another lodge,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Your lodges take six nights each week,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And still another lodge you seek,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Continuous abroad you'll roam,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And never enter your own home.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span></p>
+<h2>A BIRD'S NEST.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:22em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">An old man who had charge of field,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With pride he saw two birds did build,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A broad capacious warm nest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So full of young with speckled breast,<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And when the old man there did pass,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They soon ran merry 'mong the grass,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But of the youth they were so shy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They made strong efforts for to fly.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Youths tried with old man to prevail,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To let them blaze away at quail,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But though they longed for a fat pot,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At them they never got a shot.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">No more the old man doth them shield,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For they have flown to broader field,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Long may they spread their wings and tail,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And may no foe them 'ere assail.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>LINES ON THE FINDING OF A YOUNG MAN'S BODY
+IN TORONTO BAY.</h2>
+
+
+<p>His identity was discovered by finding the maker's name on the suit he
+wore and by sending a strip of the cloth to the maker in Montreal.</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A young man's body long it lay<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In bottom of Toronto Bay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But at last the waters bore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And raised him up near to the shore.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But no one knew his rank or station,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No one knew his home or nation,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But his form and dress were genteel,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And sorrow many they did feel.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Kind man took charge of the remains,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And was well rewarded for his pains,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So skilful he did him embalm,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Restored the features sweet and calm.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The father came and he did bless<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The man who did restore the face,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And saved for him his son's remains,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And thus he fame and honor gains.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span></p>
+<h2>LINES ON A LAWN PARTY.</h2>
+
+<p>Where it was announced ten days previous that the cereus would
+bloom, August, 1888.</p>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We own we felt a little curious,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To see the rare night blooming cereus,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And as if 'twas divine anointed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It came in bloom at the time appointed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And gorgeous too their oleander,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">None 'ere saw shrub blossom grander.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>LINES ADDRESSED TO AN OLD BACHELOR.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:21em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In summer time we roam o'er dingle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But winter draws us round the ingle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Why do you remain thus single,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When love would make two hearts tingle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Pray, tell me why my dearest wingle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With the fair you do not mingle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Better with love 'neath cot of shingle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Than all your yellow gold to jingle.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For married life you would enjoy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And soon a little girl and boy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They would your leisure hours employ,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At Christmas you could buy each toy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And fill their little hearts with joy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For their amusements never cloy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Business cares do men annoy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Child's happiness knows no alloy.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span></p>
+<h2>LINES READ AT A LADIES' AID.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">After chatting with each friend,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We our way to the table wend,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On it we all do make a raid,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And this we call a ladies' aid.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">'Tis pleasant way of taking tea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Improvement on the old soiree,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On such a time as this I find<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Food for body and for mind.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Gladly all obey the call,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To attend this pleasant social,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And we hope none will lament<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The time and money they have spent.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>FEMALE REVENGE.</h2>
+
+<p class="center">"Revenge is sweet, especially to women."&mdash;Byron.</p>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I heard Bill say to-day, Mary,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That you are a charming fairy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And that to town he'd give you drive,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But just as sure as you're alive,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He does intend to have the bliss,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of stealing from your lips a kiss.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I'll let him drive me now, Jane,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His efforts they will all be vain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I hate him, and I him defy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And anger flashed from her eye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The monster's wiles I will defeat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Peck of strong onions I will eat.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span></p>
+<h2>LINES ON A TYPEWRITER.</h2>
+
+<p>Having received a letter from a gentleman glorying in his <ins title="Original was typewiter.">typewriter</ins>
+we replied as follows:</p>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:19em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">You glory in your typewriter,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And its virtues you rehearse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But we prefer the old inditer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For to write either prose or verse.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And let each man work his will,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But never never do abuse<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The ancient and glorious quill<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From the wing of a fine old goose.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>ALL MEN ARE BROTHERS.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:21em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We are in ancient stories told,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All were brothers in days of old,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But these with facts they do not chime<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For all mankind do love the dime,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And worship the mighty dollar,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And admire the golden collar,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The rich man's washed with whitest lime,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The poor man's cover'd o'er with slime,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But we should try to love each other<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And treat each man as our brother.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>THE GOOD MAN.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:22em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Cheerful and happy was his mood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He to the poor was kind and good,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And he oft' times did find them food,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Also supplies of coal and wood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He never spake a word was rude,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And cheer'd those did o'er sorrows brood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He passed away not understood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Because no poet in his lays<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Had penned a sonnet in his praise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Tis sad, but such is world's ways.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span></p>
+<h2>Humorous.</h2>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>LAY OF THE SPRING.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:21em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Let others sing their favourite lay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From early morn till close of day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">More useful themes engage our pen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We sing the lay of our good hen.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For she doth lay each morn an egg,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And it is full and large and big,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Abroad she doth never travel,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Happy she when scratching gravel.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And she loud cackles songs of praise<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Every morn when e'er she lays,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Proud she is when she finds pickings<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For to feed her brood of chickens.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">It greatly puzzled her one day<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When she found white nest egg of clay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She knew some one did trick play her,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For she was no brick layer.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Vain and stately male bird stalks,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Leading his hens along the walks,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Proudly each feather in his tail<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Makes rival roosters for to quail.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Our muse now soars on feathery wing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And cheerful it doth hail the spring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bringing the sunshine and showers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Green grass and buds and leafy bowers.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">So pleasant is the month of May,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When bushes shoot out blooming spray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Ere spring we're tired of winter's white,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Spring's varied colours do delight.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>HIGH IN MASONRY.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Give me a board so I can trace on<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How high I have gone as a mason,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Said worker on true square cut stone<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unto some knights of good St. John.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Each one of them could trace with ease<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The highest Masonic degrees,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tell us how high then you have gone<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They said to worker on cut stone.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Who said to their astonishment<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To top of Washington monument,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I solemnly to you declare<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And will swear to fact upon the square.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I there stood thirty-three degrees,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While the mercury did freeze,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And none of you will have desire<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In masonry for to go higher.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span></p>
+<h2>Tales.</h2>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>TRAMP AND FISH.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A hungry tramp did long for dish,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And he stole a big bunch of fish,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But he full soon did come to grief,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He was quick captured as a thief.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And brought before the magistrate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So judge he would pronounce his fate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Judge asked him how he came by fish,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The thief said for them he did wish,<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The best fish ever came from brook,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I own, my Lord, I did them hook,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Said constable, he speaks what's true,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And you must give the devil his due.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then judge did constable rebuke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He owns fish if he did them hook,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He has not broken any clause<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I know of in our fishery laws.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Unless you can show this reason,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He has hooked them out of season,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Your duty you have thus mistook,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For man had right the fish to hook.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Fishing here it is not treason,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Him you had no right to seize on,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And when the poor man did fish hook,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He had a right the same to cook.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span></p>
+<h2>SEAL FISHING AND HUNTING.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:22em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Where frosts doth northern bays congeal,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There you will find the finest seal,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They do pursue them o'er each bay<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From early dawn till close of day.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The Indians display great zeal,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Engaged in hunting of the seal,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And ladies love for to display<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their seal furs from this famous bay.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Most precious of all furs is seal,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their flesh is good as finest veal,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the seal it is a squatter,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lives on either land or water.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The Indian boys happy feel,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When they capture the young seal,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They do seem so happy ever,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sailing o'er each bay and river.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">They train them their canoes to tow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And o'er the waters merry go,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Full quick to right or left they wheel,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Guided by reins the docile seal.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Like lad on colt without a saddle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">These youths use no oar nor paddle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But swift o'er water rushes keel,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For 'tis propelled by the fast seal.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">To Uncle Sam we do appeal,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How can you own the whole sea's seal,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And at the same time claim our cod,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If from the shore a mile abroad.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span></p>
+<h2>SNAKE AND ITS YOUNG.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:22em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There is a peculiar snake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You might almost call it squatter,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It loves to dive in pond or lake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At home on either land or water.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But it excited my good dog<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To see small snakes bask in the sun,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Enjoying themselves on a big log,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Near into where the water run.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But their mother she was watching<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her numerous brood on the log,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She thought to them was danger hatching,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When she beheld myself and dog.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For she gave a hissing sound,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All her offspring to awake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She ope'd her mouth and at a bound,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Down her throat did rush each snake.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I scarcely my own eyes could trust,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To see those small snakes disappear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I really thought that she would burst,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For the sake of her offspring dear.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But I soon hid among the brakes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To view the young ones leave their prison,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will you believe this tale of snakes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If I did count right just four dozen.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span></p>
+<h2>WHALE AND ITS FOES.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:21em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Six hundred miles north of Cape Flattery,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On sea there seemed a floating battery,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And stream of blood did dye the water,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sailors wondered what was the matter.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But they soon saw a great sword fish<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With its bayonet make a quick rush,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Into which proved to be large whale,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And thrasher too did it assail.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The whale dived deep to save its life,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But thrasher eager for the strife,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Knew whale must rise for to get breath,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then it would thrash the whale to death.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">At last the great whale it arose,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in distress it spouts and blows,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In anger sweeps its mighty tail,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Defensive weapon of the whale.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But thrasher high in air did leap,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And fell on monster of the deep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The sword fish then it did advance,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And assaulted it with its lance.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thus united foes soon do prevail,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And quick there floated a dead whale,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The thrasher now victorious winner,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From off the whale expected dinner.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But ship's crew they secured the prize,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whale bone and blubber monster size,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Others fought but they only reap,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The spoils of mammoth of the deep.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span></p>
+<h2>TIGER AND ELEPHANT.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:21em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">On Ganges banks roams the tiger,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And lion rules by the Niger,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hunter heard shrill cry of peacocks,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In Indian jungles go in flocks.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And he saw tiger crouch and spring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To crush a bird with beauteous wing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But the tiger missed his aim,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And he hung his head with shame.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then there came a mighty crush,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of elephants rush through the bush,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The tiger cat-like crouched on ground,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And elephants rushed in with bound.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In front was baby elephant,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To crush its bones did tiger want,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But mother saw fierce forest ranger,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And she gave a cry of danger.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Leader of herd he madly rushed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Resolved the tiger should be crushed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But tiger strove to run away,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Willing to relinquish prey.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But when he found that he must fight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On elephant's back he strove to light,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But elephant struck him with his foot,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And then with tusks he did him root.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">So now once more must praise be sung,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To beasts who nobly fight for young,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And grateful feelings were now stirred,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Towards the leader of the herd.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span></p>
+<h2>STRANGE LIFE PRESERVER.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:22em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A sailor he was swept from deck,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In minute he seem'd as a speck,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tossing on each briny wave,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They feared the sea would be his grave.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Though they full quickly launched the boat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They could not see where he did float,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He now was a long ways astern,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His whereabouts they could not learn.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But while he on the waves did toss,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He was seized by great Albatross,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who had been looking round in quest<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of something whereon it could rest.<a name="FNanchor_I_9" id="FNanchor_I_9"></a><a href="#Footnote_I_9" class="fnanchor">[I]</a><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">It hover'd o'er him with its wings,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And its great webb feet on him clings,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And it tore him with its sharp beak,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For it was longing for some steak.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But sailor seized it by the throat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And found with ease he then could float,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So sailor's life was saved by loss<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of the life of the Albatross.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The boat's crew found him none too soon,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For he had fallen into a swoon,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Him they would not have come across<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Had they not seen the Albatross.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And thus poor Jack his life was saved,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For fierce rage of bird he braved,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though in a faint he still did cling,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One arm round neck and one round wing.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For as a friend he did hug close<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That fine large bird the Albatross,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sailors row comrade back to ship,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where he relates his wondrous trip.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Sailors fear that many a cross<a name="FNanchor_J_10" id="FNanchor_J_10"></a><a href="#Footnote_J_10" class="fnanchor">[J]</a><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will fall on crew kill Albatross,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This was slain in self defence,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And so no harm it came from thence.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"The lone Albatross incumbent on the air."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_I_9" id="Footnote_I_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor_I_9"><span class="label">[I]</span></a> According to E. A. Poe the Albatross sleeps in air.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_J_10" id="Footnote_J_10"></a><a href="#FNanchor_J_10"><span class="label">[J]</span></a> See Coleridge's Ancient Mariner for the calamity befell a crew
+for wantonly killing this bird.</p></div>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>VIRTUES OF A DIAMOND RING.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:23em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Of the strange virtues of a ring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In simple strains we now will sing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Brave warrior of ancient France,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where danger was he did advance.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But he at last was struck by ball<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And on the battle field did fall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They dug for him a shallow grave<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And slightly cover'd warrior brave.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But his servant man with warm heart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Loathed with his master thus to part,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So he moved soil from where he lay<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And found a lump of lifeless clay.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He turned away in sad despair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That could not be his master fair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That famed brave youth of noble birth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now all stained o'er with blood and earth.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">As he begins to move away<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The moon reflects on brilliant ray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From diamond ring on dead man's finger<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The servant now doth fondly linger.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For he knows it's his master's ring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And hopes to life he may him bring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In finger he discovers heat<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And hopes his heart it still may beat.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Though surgeons they pronounce him dead,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For long he bathes his breast and head,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And slowly master did restore<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To fight more brave than he had before.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And now this tale to close we bring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of warrior saved by a ring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Full oft again to fight for king,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His praise his countrymen they sing.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHILD SAVED BY DOG.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:22em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Johnston he is an engineer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He always looks if track is clear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For he hath a keen eagle eye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Danger afar he doth espy.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And he hath too a warm true heart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of others woes he shares a part;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One day he gazed far down the line,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And a large dog he could define.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">So eager busy on the track,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In mouth it seemed to lift a pack,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But it oftentimes did fail<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For to raise it o'er the rail.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The engineer put on his steam<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And he loud made his whistle scream,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So that the dog would take alarm<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And thus preserve his life from harm.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">This noble dog, it feared not danger,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fear to him it was a stranger,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His mistress child he wished to save,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And all the danger he would brave.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">His last great effort did prevail,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He raised it safe beyond the rail,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Into a snug and hollow spot,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A place seem'd formed for a child's cot.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">This dog of noble mastiff breed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For his own safety took no heed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But at approaching train did bark,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To make them to his troubles hark.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The engineer did sad bewail,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To see the dog still on the rail,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A moment more the beast is slain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cut in two by the cruel train.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The engineer now shuts off steam<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For to investigate the theme,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That caused the dog to die at post,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Finds to save child its life it lost.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Faithful in the cause of duty,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Saving life of little beauty,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A little darling three year old,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">More precious than her weight in gold.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">On track she wandered for to play,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But soon she in quiet slumber lay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And all the efforts of old Towser,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Were not able to arouse her.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The mother now in agony wild,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rushed down to train to find her child,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There she found it sweetly sleeping,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While some for faithful dog were weeping.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And a brave man was engineer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For he himself knew not of fear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But his heart was filled with pain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Because the noble dog was slain.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span></p>
+<h2>LEACH THE ENGINEER.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:22em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The engineer who drives the train,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From scalds he oft doth suffer pain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And they are more noble scars,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Than hirelings gain in foreign wars.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Our hero's name should live forever,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Train wrecked in Columbia River,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And fatal scalded was Frank Leach,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In mid the river far from beach.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Heroic deed it should be sung.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though his flesh in ribbons hung,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He saw a man who could not swim,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And he resolved to rescue him.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And success his efforts crowned,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He saved the man from being drowned,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For him upon his back he bore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And boldly swam with him to shore.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Heroic deed we now enroll,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And grave it deep on fame's scroll,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For this great truth we wish to teach,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">High 'mong our heroes ranks Frank Leach.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When he had but short time to live,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His strength and skill he both did give,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His poor fellow man to save,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From laying in a watery grave.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The heroes oft in days of old,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Were those who hired to fight for gold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But the true heroes we revere<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Doth fight for home and country dear.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span></p>
+<h2>JACKAL AND CHILD.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:22em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In the great Province of Bengal,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The scavenger is the Jackal,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For it doth love each night to feast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On the carrion of some beast.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The stench of which pollutes the air,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But to this beast 'tis sweet and fair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Carcass to it is source of wealth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Jackals promote the public health.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When the "Seapoys" did rebel,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A strange adventure child befell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An English Colonel and his wife,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They thought still distant was the strife.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And left their little girl at home,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While they to distant village roam;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And thus saved their lives from slaughter,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But rebels carried off their daughter.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Their servant woman, a Hindoo,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They knew her to be kind and true,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It almost drove her crazy wild,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To see them dragging off the child.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The Colonel soon he doth return,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in his breast fierce rage doth burn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He knows the child is doomed to die,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But he the rebels will defy.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">So quick he doth gird on his sword,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And asks for blessings from the Lord,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He puts his pistols in their case,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And carries with him trusty brace.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Seapoys by the river side<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Left child to drown in rising tide,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But Jackal went there for water,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And spied the Colonel's daughter.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He knew the river soon would rise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So quick he carried off the prize,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though love for child he does not feel,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He only wants her for a meal.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He ran with her towards the south,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Carrying her in his broad mouth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Colonel had a strong desire<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On this savage beast for to fire.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But from it he refrained for fear<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The ball might strike his little dear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He saw that brute was now weary<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Running with his little dearie.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">So he then quickly gave it chase,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And full soon then he gained the race,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The coward beast then dropped the child<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And fled away in terror wild.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">With joy Colonel he doth weep<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When he finds babe is still asleep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And on it neither scar nor trace<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Can disfigure its fair face.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And now he takes it in his arms,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With joy and pride surveys its charms,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We fear that kisses did it smother<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When he handed it to mother.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span></p>
+<h2>LITTLE HERO.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:22em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">'Mong silver hills of Nevada<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There is many a wild bravado,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who oft indulge in lawless vice,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And there are pearls of great price.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Rough hearts, but true at the core,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There is the genuine silver ore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But it needs skill of the refiner<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To find pure gems in the miner.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Far from their home two children stray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Among the mountains far away,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The eldest of these travellers bold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Jack Smith he was but six years old.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">So far poor children went abroad,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That both at last they lost their road,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But their good dog the trusty Rover,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By scent and search doth them discover.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Their friends they search for them in vain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dark night comes on and heavy rain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And savage wolves around them howl,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But they fear Rover's bark and growl.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">On the third day the searchers hark<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For sounds and they hear Rover's bark,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Joyous that boys were alive,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And that though feeble they survive.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Miners they left their silver ore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And for more precious pearls explore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And when the children they discover,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Tis unbounded then their pleasure.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The eldest little hero bold<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Had stripped his coat to keep the cold<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From little brother three years old,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A worthy deed should be extolled.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">From home they were many a league,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And weak with hunger and fatigue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each clung upon a miner's back,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On their way home down mountain track.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>GRAY HAIRS.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Once on a time a lady quarrelled<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With the witty Douglass Jerrold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Because that he had been so bold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To hint that she was growing old.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">She said her hair was dark 'till one day<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She used an essence turned it gray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O, yes, said he, tincture of time<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Affects the hair in this our clime.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span></p>
+<h2>GOOD SHOT.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">At great reunion of the South,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of those had faced the cannon's mouth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where each could show a glorious scar<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He had received in the war.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And there was an artillery major,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Said he, I am free to wager<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I fired the best shot in the war,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And fame of it was heard afar.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The Federals fired at us a shell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And near our battery it fell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It gave us momentary alarm,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But it caused us little harm.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For the fuse it ceased to burn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And I resolved shell to return<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To the same spot from whence it came,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I put in fuse was sure to flame.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">From mortar's mouth it went forth<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Seeking for vengeance on the North,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And this swift messenger from South<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It entered their great cannon's mouth.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And blew the gun all into atoms,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which left desolate many homes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But North had justice on her side.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In truth and virtue was her pride.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And high Heaven had well decreed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That the poor slave he should be freed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And even the South doth prosper more<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With freedom than she did before.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span></p>
+<h2>LOST SON FOUND.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:22em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">An English ship when homeward bound,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Near to its port was shipwrecked found,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For it had struck a sunken rock,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And was slowly sinking from the shock.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In port they quick did man life boat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which o'er tempestuous sea did float,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They rescued all the crew, save one,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And were content with what they done.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But they had not their captain, Harry,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who on the shore was forced to tarry,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And knew not of the disaster,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So crew had worked without a master.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But when he heard of the shipwreck,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And that a man was left on deck,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He quickly hurried the boat's crew<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For to again attempt his rescue.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But earnestly his old mother,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Reminded him of his lost brother,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Perhaps drowned in foreign sea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She cried, son, stay and comfort me.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But wreck they reach and rescue man,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And thrill of joy o'er city ran,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When it was found 'twas Harry's brother,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Had returned to comfort mother.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thus providence rewards the brave<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who strive their fellow men to save,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The mother's griefs it did assuage,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And happy now is her old age.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span></p>
+<h2>SHOE BLACK.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:22em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Gent on sidewalk held out his foot<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While boy in gutter brushed his boot,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But at this time, how sad, alas,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An unruly horse did o'er him pass.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The child for friends he sad did lack,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They said he was but a shoeblack,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Kind hearted man the poor child bore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To a soft cot in back of store.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And brought from hospital ward<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A skilful nurse the lad to guard,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She often listened for his breath,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As he was passing the vale of death.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But, poor child, once he ope'd his eyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And he looked round in great surprise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Feebly he asked, heaving a sigh,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where in the world now am I.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The tender nurse bent o'er his face,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And said, dear boy, you're in good place,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She asked his name, he said it was Tom,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And that for long he had no home.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And since his mother was stricken dead,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He had not once reposed in bed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And while suffering child did rack,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He eagerly asked will mother come back.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The nurse she gently answered, no,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But, to your dear mother you can go,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In his last sleep he had a dream,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shining up boots it was his theme.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He soon awoke and called out, mother,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I see you and little brother,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Christ, I know, has me forgiven,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For they are beckoning me to Heaven.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span></p>
+<h2>DUCK AND OYSTER.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Once on a time there lived a duck,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And by its fishing it did thrive;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So one day it longed to suck<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An oyster and for one did dive.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The oyster near shore lay open,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The duck, its gizzard for to fill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Resolved that he would pop in<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Between the shells his sharp bill.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And then he would have glorious treat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But oyster closed on it its shell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And duck it got no oyster meat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But worse than that the duck befell.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">This oyster was so very large,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It held the duck's head under water,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And towed small oysters like a barge,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each one clung to it like squatter.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Duck it died of too much moisture,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And it floated towards the beach,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And to its bill clung big oyster,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sticking to it like a horse leach.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">On the shore there stood a shyster,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Watching fat duck floating to him,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the wondrous big oyster,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How fine it would be to stew them.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Alas the duck lost its dinner,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And at the same time lost its life,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But on it dined a hungry sinner,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who did reap all the spoils of strife.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For when the duck to land did float,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It towed small oysters not a few,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For it sailed like to a boat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With fat duck pie and oyster stew.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">None can the poor duck's fate bewail,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For it reckoned without its host,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It strove for conquest and did fail,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fighting for spoil it battle lost.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">You see the wild duck did not know,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When it attacked the big oyster,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It had to fight a numerous foe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of these shell fish a whole cluster.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Borne feathers on briny billow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They were full of springy down,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And they made a glorious pillow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where fellow he could rest his crown.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">This chap he did not plow nor sow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But from sea and land he did reap<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The wealth that others caused to grow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And thus he treasures up did heap.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span></p>
+<h2>BABY DARLING.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A miner in California mine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For his distant home he did repine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In a far off Eastern state,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where did live his own dear mate.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And one great source of all his joy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His little darling baby boy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One night to drive his cares away<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To concert hall his footsteps stray.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And loud resounding o'er the hall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He heard a little boy squall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The sweetest music he e'er heard,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sweeter far than singing bird.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For his thoughts it caused to roam,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To his distant eastern home,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Near to the mine there were no trace<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of baby dear or woman's face.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When violinist with his bow<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Did make exquisite music flow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The miner he did loudly bawl<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Stop fiddle and let baby squall.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">My sad heart his cries doth cheer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Reminding me of my own dear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For sooner I would him behold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Than if I found a mine of gold.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For what are all the joys of life,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So far away from child and wife,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But few more months I will stay here<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then join my wife and baby dear.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span></p>
+<h2>RIDING AN AVALANCHE.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem" style="width:23em;"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">With our Canadian snow shoes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O'er snow you walk where'er you choose,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But on long shoes Norwegian<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They are like narrow toboggan.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And all your movements you control<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By the aid of a stout long pole,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With it you balance or propel<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But we show now what once befell.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Two miners full of pluck and game,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wished to locate a mining claim,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On a high steep mountain crest<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In Colorado of the West.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Though snow was deep they would attempt<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their good mine for to pre-empt,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So up the mountain they do climb,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Covered o'er with snow and rime.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Norwegian shoes slide over the snow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">High and higher still they go,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One was two hundred yards ahead,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till snow gives way where he doth tread.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Which quickly starts an avalanche,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He seizes on a stout tree branch,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But all in vain he rushes fast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His snow shoes in the avalanche.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">His friend on shoes Norwegian,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like lightning down the hill he ran,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or rather o'er the ice did glide<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Down the long steep and glassy slide.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And after him the Avalanche,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tearing up trees both root and branch,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The man on Avalanche doth yell<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To his friend you are doing well.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">With your shoes Norwegian,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Swifter than a toboggan,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Go on, go on, you'll win the race,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For we are slack'ning in our pace.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But, alas! poor runner feels<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Avalanche doth touch his heels,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shall he be buried in the mass,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or will the vast pile o'er him pass.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He stops quite sudden 'neath a rock,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It passed o'er him with mighty shock,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though it did cause him great alarm,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet still he was all safe from harm.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The Avalanche yet downward slides,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And his friend on it he rides,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Until it safely him doth launch<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On outer edge of his own ranch.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">After three miles down the gulch,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They both might have been crushed to mulch,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The one he seemed to run a race,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While one on Avalanche did chase.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But it was not for bravado,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One rode, one run in Colorado,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For it was desperate the strife<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each had for to secure his life.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">This tale of shoes Norwegian<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is not for the collegian,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But for such youths as do take pride<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In reading of a wondrous slide.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span></p>
+<h2>FINAL ADDRESS TO OUR PATRONS.</h2>
+
+
+<p>To those who have so cheerfully subscribed for our poetic works at
+this early stage, and whose names have been obtained in this town, we
+feel ourselves deeply indebted, and it affords us great pleasure to record
+their names:&mdash;Dr. McKay, M.P.P.; Thomas Seldon, mayor; Joseph
+Gibson, postmaster; Dr. Williams, reeve; Walter Mills, Wm. Ewart,
+Thomas Brown, George Brown, Dr. Dickson, G. Alderson, William Watterworth,
+Dr. Canfield, James Smith, Peter Stuart, A. Grant, W.
+Partlo, Noxon Bros., Samuel, Stephen, T. H. and W. R. Noxon, C. E.
+Chadwick, J. A. Richardson, C. Simpson, James Brady, Peter Kennedy,
+M. T. Buchanan, W. A. Sudworth, C. Kennedy, H. Brooke, A.
+Pearson, John R. Warnock, Evans Piano Company, James Kirby, Dr.
+Carroll, Stephen King, D. Kerr &amp; Co, W. Underwood, M. Walsh, J.
+S. Smith, W. McBain, James McKay, John Boles, J. E. Boles, J. C.
+Norsworthy, James Stevens, Angus McLeod, G. A. Turner, David
+White, James Sinclair, A. Murdoch, W. Woolson, William Dundass,
+James Badden, W. H. Jones, A. N. Christopher, G. A. Rose, L. Thompson,
+James Chambers, J. W. Marsden, Dr. Kester, A. D. Hoagg, W.
+C. Bell, F. Richardson, H. Richardson, John Morrow, O. E. Robinson,
+J. F. Morrey, W. Thompson, W. Gibson, G. H. Sharp, W. Hook, D.
+Secord, N. H. Bartley, W. Beckes, H. D. McCarty, John Ross, J. T.
+Malone, James H. Noe, L. Noe, G. Bloor, C. Bloor, T. H. Barraclough,
+T. F. Fawkes, J. Stephenson, J. H. Berry, Paul Berry, Hault Manufacturing
+Co., Dr. Walker, H. E. Robinson; T. H. Torren, W. Briden,
+John Birss, David Garlick, William Noxon, W. A. Knox, C. R.
+Patience, E. H. Hugill, J. A. Young, D. I. Sutherland, D. M. Sutherland,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span>
+W. Thompson, R. McNiven, E. Livens, E. M. Walker, H. R.
+Cotton, D. W. Augustine, R. Gemmell, C. W. Waldron, J. W. Browett,
+R. H. Young, G. F. Clark, G. F. Mason, G. R. Thompson, W. A.
+Sinclair, W. Moore, James Kay, E. Caldwell, W. Davidson, G. McBurney,
+John Husband, R. A. Skinner.</p>
+
+<p>Our dairy friends whose names appear on <a href="#Page_68">page 68</a> responded almost
+unanimous and the cheese buyers Messrs. Riley, Cook and Simister,
+manifested a similar spirit. To Podmore and Wilson of Grant &amp; Co.
+we are also indebted. Several ex-wardens of the county are on our
+list, and James Sutherland, M.P., B. Hopkins, Gordon Cook, T. R.
+Mayberry, G. Walker, R. Wilson, J. C. Harris, W. Nancekivell, G.
+Chambers, R. Mayberry, Andrew Mitchell and J. H. Rowse, are
+among our country friends, and those prominent cheesemakers Ireland
+and Wooliever.</p>
+
+<p>But as the printers are awaiting this sheet we must now close this
+list.</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Now to our friends who proved so true,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We bid you for short time adieu.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Those who may wish to procure a copy of this book will receive
+one neatly bound in cloth, with postage prepaid thereon, by remitting
+us One Dollar.</p>
+
+<div style="width:14em; float:right; margin-bottom:4em;">
+<div>JAMES McINTYRE, &amp;</div>
+<div class="citation">Ingersoll, Canada.</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span></p>
+<h2>Index.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="toc">
+<table summary="Table of Contents">
+
+<tr><td></td><td class="rt"><span class="smcap">Page.</span></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Kind words From Friends</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_4">4</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Canada Before Confederation</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_7">7</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Canada's Future</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_8">8</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Birth of Canada as a Nation</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_9">9</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Welcome to the Prince of Wales</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_10">10</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Canada's Resources</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_11">11</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>North-West Rebellion</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_12">12</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Big Bear the Indian Chief</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_14">14</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Laying Corner Stone of Brock's Tower</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_15">15</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Patriotic Ode</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_16">16</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Province of Ontario</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_17">17</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Canadian Rivers and Lakes</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_20">20</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>United by Steel Rails</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_21">21</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Lorne and Louise</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_23">23</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Canadian Sports and Games</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_24">24</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Niagara Charms and Death of Webb</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_26">26</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Departed Canadian Statesmen</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_27">27</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>The Old Snake Fence</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_28">28</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Canadian Voyageurs on the Nile</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_29">29</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Land Clearing</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_30">30</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Maple Sugar Making</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_31">31</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Canadian Romance</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_32">32</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Lament of the Maple Tree</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_36">36</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Life in the Woods</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_39">39</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Prairie Farming</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_40">40</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Canada Our Home</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_41">41</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Donald Ross</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_43">43</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Patriot Fighting for his Home</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_44">44</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Fighting for Conquest</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_45">45</a></td></tr>
+
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2" class="title">CANADIAN AUTHORS.</td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td>Mrs. Moody</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_46">46</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>T. D. McGee</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_47">47</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>George Menzies</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_48">48</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Thomas Conant</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_48">48</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>R. F. Gourley</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_49">49</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>A. McLaughlan</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_49">49</a></td></tr>
+
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2" class="title">ONTARIO SKETCHES.</td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td>South Ontario Sketches</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_50">50</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Holland River and its Tributaries</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_51">51</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>St. Catharines</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_53">53</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Brantford</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_54">54</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Thorold</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_55">55</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>St. Thomas</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_56">56</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Galt and Dunlop</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_57">57</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Tilsonburg</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_57">57</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Port Stanley</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_58">58</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Port Burwell</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_58">58</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>The Banks of Canadian Thames</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_59">59</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>The River Thames</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_60">60</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>London Flood</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_60">60</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Loss of Steamer Victoria</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_61">61</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Woodstock</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_62">62</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Ingersoll</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_63">63</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Embro</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_63">63</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Beachville</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_64">64</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Stratford</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_64">64</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Thamesford</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_65">65</a></td></tr>
+
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2" class="title">DAIRY SKETCHES.</td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Dairy Sketches</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_66">66</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Cheese Pioneers</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_67">67</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Cheese Factories and Salesmen</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_68">68</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Father Ranney</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_69">69</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Mammoth Cheese</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_71">71</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Lines Read at a Dairyman's Supper</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_72">72</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Hints to Cheese Makers</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_73">73</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Fertile Lands and Great Cheese</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_74">74</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Dairymaid's Social</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_74">74</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Salford Home of the Cheese</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_75">75</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Oxford Cheese Ode</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_76">76</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Windmills and Stone Stables</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_77">77</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Dairy Ode</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_78">78</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Cheese Curd for Bait</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_80">80</a></td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2" class="title">CANADIAN SKETCHES.</td></tr>
+
+
+
+
+<tr><td>Thanksgiving Ode</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_82">82</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Agricultural Implements</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_83">83</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>When to Sell Grain</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_84">84</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Four Acre Farm</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_85">85</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Harvest Home Festival</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_86">86</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Corner Stone Laying</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_87">87</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Credit Valley Trip</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_88">88</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Eagle and Salmon</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_89">89</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Captain's Adventure</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_90">90</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Indian Romance</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_92">92</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Canadian Hunter</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_93">93</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Fight With a Bear</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_94">94</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Origin of the Toboggan</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_95">95</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Bear and Falls</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_97">97</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Broken Raft Adventure</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_99">99</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Buffalo and Wolves</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_100">100</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Bear Hunt</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_102">102</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Coon Hunting</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_103">103</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Sailor's Yarn</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_105">105</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Hunters and Trappers</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_106">106</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Wild Goose Shot</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_108">108</a><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Adventures With Bears</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_109">109</a></td></tr>
+
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2" class="title">BRITISH ODES.</td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td>Queen's Jubilee</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_112">112</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Wars in Victoria's Reign</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_113">113</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Crimean War</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_115">115</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Indian Mutiny</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_115">115</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Bear and Whale</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_116">116</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Gordon and Burnaby</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_117">117</a></td></tr>
+
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2" class="title">ENGLISH POETS.</td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td>Shakespeare</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_118">118</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Milton</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_119">119</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Coleridge, Southey &amp; Wordsworth</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_120">120</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Shelly</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_120">120</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Byron</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_120">120</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Tennyson</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_121">121</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Dryden and Pope</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_121">121</a></td></tr>
+
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2" class="title">POETS AND PHILOSOPHERS.</td></tr>
+
+
+
+
+<tr><td>Bacon, Hogg, Lamb &amp; Shakespeare</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_122">122</a></td></tr>
+
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2" class="title">IRISH POETS.</td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td>Moor</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_123">123</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Oliver Goldsmith</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_124">124</a></td></tr>
+
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2" class="title">SCOTTISH POETS.</td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td>Burns</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_125">125</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Burns and Scott</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_126">126</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>South of Scotland</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_126">126</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Scottish Poets</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_127">127</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>James Hogg</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_128">128</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Highland Sketches</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_129">129</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Shires on the Moray Frith</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_131">131</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Lines Read at Embro</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_132">132</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>St. Andrew's Celebration</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_133">133</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Dick and Edward</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_134">134</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Castle Gordon</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_134">134</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Prince Charlie's Grandsons</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_135">135</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>St. Andrew</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_136">136</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>River Clyde</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_137">137</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Elf Shot</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_138">138</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Hallowe'en</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_139">139</a></td></tr>
+
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2" class="title">AMERICAN POETS.</td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td>Longfellow, Poe, Lowell</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_140">140</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Bryant, Whittier, Saxe</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_141">141</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Carleton, Millar, Holmes, Whitman</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_142">142</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Lofty Actors Withdraw</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_142">142</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>United States</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_143">143</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Caledonia Springs</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_144">144</a></td></tr>
+
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2" class="title">LOCAL SKETCHES.</td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td>Victoria Park and Games</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_145">145</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Ingersoll Fire</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_145">145</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Masonic Lines</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_146">146</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Oddfellowship</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_147">147</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Advice to a Little Girl</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_148">148</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>In Memoriam</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_149">149</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Providential Escape</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_150">150</a></td></tr>
+
+
+
+<tr><td colspan="2" class="title">MORAL AND REFLECTIVE.</td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td>Brain Engravings</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_152">152</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Survival of the Fittest</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_153">153</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Judge by Merit</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_154">154</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Gates Ajar</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_155">155</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Child Made Happy</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_156">156</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Poetry</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_157">157</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Power of Love</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_157">157</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Her Lover's Step</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_158">158</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>The Useful Weed</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_159">159</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Golden Egg</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_160">160</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Little Dora</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_161">161</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Lines on the Death of a Good Woman</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_161">161</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Fighting for Home</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_162">162</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Mental Album</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_162">162</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Every Rose Hath Its Thorn</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_163">163</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Danger of Fire Arms</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_164">164</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Kind Providence</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_164">164</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Help in Need</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_165">165</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>O For a Lodge</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_165">165</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Bird's Nest</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_166">166</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Remains Found in Toronto Bay</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_166">166</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>A Lawn Party</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_167">167</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Address to a Bachelor</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_167">167</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Lines Read at a Ladies' Aid</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_168">168</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Female Revenge</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_168">168</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>A Typewriter</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_169">169</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2" class="title">TALES, HUMOROUS AND SERIOUS.</td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td>Lay of the Spring</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_170">170</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>High in Masonry</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_171">171</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Tramp and Fish</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_172">172</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Seal Hunting</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_173">173</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Snake and Her Young</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_174">174</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Whale and its Foes</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_175">175</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Tiger and Elephant</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_176">176</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Strange Life Preserver</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_177">177</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Virtues of a Diamond Ring</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_178">178</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Child Saved by Dog</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_180">180</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Leach the Engineer</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_182">182</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Jackal and Child</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_183">183</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Little Hero</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_185">185</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Gray Hairs</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_186">186</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Good Shot</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_187">187</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Lost Son Found</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_188">188</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Shoeblack's Sad Fate</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_189">189</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Duck and Oyster</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_190">190</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Baby Darling</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_192">192</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Riding an Avalanche</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_193">193</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>Final Address to Our Patrons</td><td class="rt"><a href="#Page_195">195</a></td></tr>
+</table>
+</div>
+
+<div class="tn">
+
+<h2>Transcriber's Notes</h2>
+<p>No changes were made, unless noted.
+</p>
+<p><a href="#Page_6">Page 6</a><br />
+(And you'r a poet yet.) A short version for you're.
+</p>
+<p><a href="#Page_27">Page 27</a> and <a href="#Page_60">60</a><br />
+(Mingling with St. Lawrance motion,).  Spelling as shown. St. Lawrence
+in other poems.
+</p>
+<p><a href="#Page_38">Page 38</a><br />
+(when we used the smooth plain.). Possible typo for plane.
+</p>
+<p><a href="#Page_47">Page 47</a><br />
+(D Arcy McGee,). May be D'Arcy.
+</p>
+<p><a href="#Page_81">Page 81</a><br />
+(Which had grown from the seed). Changed whih to which.
+</p>
+<p><a href="#Page_85">Page 85</a><br />
+(But none e're fell in love with Ruth,). Perhaps e'er rather than e're.<br />
+('Tis seldom she e're feels alarm,). Same.
+</p>
+<p><a href="#Page_89">Page 89</a><br />
+(Wilmot of fish culutre fame,). Possible typo for culture.
+</p>
+<p><a href="#Page_120">Page 120</a><br />
+(The brilliant  pasionate Byron.). Possible typo for passionate.
+</p>
+<p><a href="#Page_140">Page 140</a><br />
+(His wierd  wonderful romances). May be weird.
+</p>
+<p><a href="#Page_144">Page 144</a><br />
+(Where fish are propogate by Green,). Possibly propagate.
+</p>
+<p><a href="#Page_169">Page 169</a><br />
+(glorying in his typewriter). Changed typewiter to typewriter.
+</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
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+</body>
+</html>
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Poems of James McIntyre, by James McIntyre
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Poems of James McIntyre
+
+Author: James McIntyre
+
+Release Date: May 9, 2011 [EBook #36068]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POEMS OF JAMES MCINTYRE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Meredith Bach, Leonard Johnson and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
+book was produced from scanned images of public domain
+material from the Google Print project.)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: James McIntyre]
+
+
+
+
+  POEMS
+
+  OF
+
+  JAMES McINTYRE.
+
+
+  "Fair Canada is our Theme,
+  Land of rich cheese, milk and cream."
+
+
+  INGERSOLL:
+  PUBLISHED AT THE OFFICE OF THE CHRONICLE.
+  1889.
+
+
+
+
+  Registered, according to Act of Parliament,
+  in the year 1884, by
+
+  JAMES McINTYRE,
+
+  In the Office of the Minister of Agriculture.
+
+
+
+
+TO THE PUBLIC.
+
+
+We received so many kind assurances from friends in this neighborhood
+and from gentlemen at a distance who had taken an interest in our first
+little work, that they induce us to issue this more comprehensive volume
+containing about one hundred new pieces. We have written a number of
+dairy odes recently; these and our patriotic songs composed during the
+past year we trust will make the work more interesting. We publish a few
+short pieces from many letters and poems we received from friends. We
+hope the public will peruse the poems in a friendly spirit, as a kind
+feeling towards all of the nationalities forming this young and vigorous
+Dominion has prompted us to publish these selections from our poetic
+works.
+
+  JAMES McINTYRE,
+
+  INGERSOLL, ONT.
+
+
+
+
+SHORT EXTRACTS FROM POEMS AND LETTERS RECEIVED BY THE AUTHOR.
+
+
+The following lines were received from Mr. William Murray of Hamilton:
+
+    "In writing you do not pretend
+    With Tennysonian themes to blend,
+    It is an independent style
+    Begotten on Canadian soil."
+
+
+From one of Toronto's well known citizens, S. H. Janes, Esq., formerly
+of Oxford:
+
+I wish to express to you my great pleasure in looking over your musings
+on the Banks of Canadian Thames. It seemed to transport my memory across
+the chasm of twenty-five years and to call up the scenes, associations
+and joys of boyhood's happy hour. Literary work of this kind must add
+greatly to your pleasure and happiness as it certainly does to that of
+your friends.
+
+
+The Editor of the Toronto Globe, after reviewing a number of other books
+pronounced our little volume to be the gem of the table.
+
+
+Col. Denison, Toronto's police magistrate, "found many most interesting
+pieces on Canadian subjects in the volume."
+
+
+Joaquin Miller, the American poet, hailed me as "my dear poet of the
+Canadian pasture fields," and he said I did wisely in singing of useful
+themes.
+
+
+N. C. Thompson of Rockford, Ill., wrote us a large number of verses. We
+select the following:
+
+    "Your poem on the Bard of Ayr,
+    I like the best, I think it rare,
+    An equal love of Burns I share,
+      And read him oft,
+    O could I write like him 'twould bear
+      My soul aloft."
+
+
+Dr. Scadding, the Antiquarian, thought my poem on Father Rannie, the
+cheese pioneer, "had the ring of a fine old ballad about it."
+
+
+From a poem by the Rev. John Dunbar, of Toronto, we give this extract:
+
+    As other duties made demand
+    I only got your poems scanned,
+    Marking the treatment of your pieces
+    While wonder and surprise increases,
+    Assured your book its way will win,
+    So neat without, so nice within,
+    Reserving as a promised pleasure
+    The thorough reading at my leisure,
+    Permit me now to each unknown
+    To thank you for the kindness shown.
+
+
+The Hon. Oliver Mowat was pleased with the patriotic spirit displayed in
+the poems.
+
+
+From George McIntyre of Conestoga:
+
+    Surprised, delighted, beyond measure,
+    I gazed upon the pretty treasure,
+    And as it gives me such great pleasure,
+      My thanks I send
+    To him who in his hours of leisure
+      Those verses penned.
+
+
+A. G. Murray, a prominent clansman of Chicago, sent us the following:--I
+received your volume and I think a great deal of it. It is one of our
+family treasures and the reading of it brings before us the genial form
+of friend McIntyre, who pictures things so vividly, reminding us of days
+gone by.
+
+
+From Rev. Robert Cameron of Denver, Colorado:
+
+    My whilom friend dear McIntyre,
+    Your book of rhymes has come,
+    Take thanks from all around our fire,
+    For all have said well done;
+    How many long and toilsome years
+    Have passed since first we met,
+    I was a lad twixt hopes and fears,
+    And you'r a poet yet.
+
+
+
+
+CANADA BEFORE THE CONFEDERATION OF THE PROVINCES.
+
+
+    Canadian provinces they lay
+    Divided by river and by bay,
+    Many a separate division,
+    Among them there was no cohesion.
+
+    But statesmen saw that a great nation
+    Could be formed by federation,
+    And soon they led public opinion
+    To favor forming this Dominion.
+
+    North-West with its streams and fountains,
+    With sources in the Rocky Mountains,
+    It was all a great mystery,
+    Hunting for furs its history.
+
+    Though North-West is filling slow
+    Yet soon there will be mighty flow,
+    Millions to North-West will hurry
+    In last decade of century.
+
+    For therein is an opening grand
+    In great fertile prairie land,
+    For there the choicest wheat it grows
+    Near where the Saskatchewan flows.
+
+    And on many a river's branch
+    There is found great grazing ranch,
+    Favoured districts therein abound
+    Where cattle graze all the year round.
+
+    Protected from the stormy blast
+    By the Rocky Mountains vast,
+    Through canon blows no storm terrific,
+    But balmy breezes from Pacific.
+
+
+
+
+CANADA'S FUTURE.
+
+
+    Canada is a young giant,
+      Has not yet acquired its strength,
+    On the arts of peace reliant,
+      Throughout its vast breadth and length.
+
+    Though 'tis not famed for orange bowers
+      Nor for the products of its vines,
+    Though other lands have fairer flowers,
+      Yet it to nobler gifts inclines.
+
+    It doth produce the golden grain
+      And few lands can with it compete,
+    They often try but all in vain
+      To produce such splendid wheat.
+
+    Our geologists divine,
+      That ere long we will behold
+    Many a rich glittering mine
+      Of copper, silver and of gold.
+
+    But we sing more glorious theme,
+      It is our verdant pasture land,
+    Where cows produce a flood of cream,
+      Doth make cheese of the finest brand.
+
+    And great thoughts oftentimes awakes
+      When we reflect on this wondrous land,
+    With vast rivers and mighty lakes,
+      All nature here's on scale so grand.
+
+    Young Dominion so gigantic,
+      Where rail cars run at speed terrific,
+    Thousands of miles from the Atlantic,
+     Till in the West you reach Pacific.
+
+    From balmy breezes of lake Erie
+      To the far north frozen ocean,
+    Where it now seems lone and dreary,
+      All will yet be life and motion.
+
+    Though nation's young its powerful fleet
+      Doth sail on many a distant sea,
+    For world's commerce to compete
+      Her sails in all climes flowing free.
+
+
+
+
+BIRTH OF CANADA AS A NATION, JULY FIRST, 1867.
+
+
+    Hail Britannia's noblest daughter,
+    Who is surrounded by the water
+    Of many a lake and broad sea,
+    Land of beaver and of maple tree.
+
+    Her lofty brow is wreathed with smiles,
+    For from the far Atlantic isles
+    In pomp have come their delegates,
+    All seeking to unite their fates.
+
+    With Canada great northern queen,
+    And now throughout the land is seen,
+    High festival and stately dance,
+    Triumphant nuptials to advance.
+
+    And soon shall Red River valley
+    And distant Vancouver rally,
+    To form this Empire gigantic
+    From Pacific to Atlantic.
+
+
+
+
+WELCOME TO THE PRINCE OF WALES.
+
+Lines written when the Prince of Wales was about embarking for Canada,
+May, 1860.
+
+
+    In his long voyage o'er the sea,
+    To where doth grow the maple tree,
+    May he be blest with pleasant gales,
+    The coming man, the Prince of Wales.
+
+    The maple grows but in good soil,
+    Where nature doth reward for toil
+    The farmer splitting his fence rails,
+    He welcome bids the Prince of Wales.
+
+    In the woods the axe is ringing
+    And the yeoman merry singing,
+    The song resounds o'er hills and dales,
+    Our future king the Prince of Wales.
+
+    Round the brow of our future chief
+    We'll weave a wreath of maple leaf,
+    For o'er broad Canada prevails
+    Kind feelings to the Prince of Wales.
+
+    When in this land the Prince arrives,
+    May he have many pleasant drives,
+    And on our lakes have merry sails,
+    Great king of princes, Prince of Wales.
+
+
+
+
+CANADA'S RESOURCES.
+
+
+    Small Scotland nobly held its own
+    Against the might of England's throne,
+    And shall this land with its vast bounds
+    Shrink with fear ere the trumpet sounds.
+
+    While British blood doth course each vein,
+    Proudly this heritage maintain,
+    With fertile acres by the billions,
+    Future homes for two hundred millions.
+
+    Each son could have a fertile farm,
+    Brave men who ne'er will feel alarm,
+    And they have both the nerve and skill
+    To work land with a right good will.
+
+    And she has got within her shores
+    Renowned mines of many ores,
+    While her furnaces and forges
+    Iron in useful shape disgorges.
+
+    Her mighty forests they do yield
+    Lumber, her cities for to build,
+    But her wealth is not in these alone,
+    She has great quarries too of stone.
+
+    Industry it here doth bloom,
+    And skilful webs come from each loom,
+    One of great nations under sun,
+    A mightier race it yet will run.
+
+    For with the Anglo-Saxon race
+    No other people can keep pace,
+    Here they have room for to expand
+    Into a nation mighty grand.
+
+    With great railroads and canals,
+    And care in legislative halls,
+    A mighty future she will gain,
+    And highest rank she will obtain.
+
+    Canada hopes it will be told,
+    That she hath patriots brave and bold,
+    To guide her helm shall be extolled,
+    As loving country more than gold.
+
+
+
+
+NORTH-WEST REBELLION, 1885.
+
+
+    Hail Canada our young fair land,
+    The world's respect it doth command;
+    How quick her sons at war's alarms
+    Sprang to her rescue with their arms.
+
+    In Canada the English rose,
+    The shamrock and the thistle grows,
+    United garland they combine
+    Around the maple tree to twine.
+
+    They did march a brave gallant host
+    From the far East Atlantic coast,
+    Our Canada so proud and free,
+    Four thousand miles from sea to sea.
+
+    Though skilful rebels did entrench,
+    But their deadly fires our boys did quench,
+    And victory it soon was won
+    By our General Middleton.
+
+    And Colonel Williams left a name
+    For Canada's temple of fame,
+    A kind and a brave hearted man
+    In hour of danger led the van.
+
+    The ninetieth regiment it fought well,
+    And Winnipeg doth its glories tell,
+    London boasts of her volunteers,
+    For she prides in her Fusiliers.
+
+    Toronto troops have gained renown,
+    And triumph their quick march did crown,
+    For the relief of Battleford,
+    And scattering of the Indian horde.
+
+    Our volunteers took up their arms,
+    Each left his home and all its charms;
+    Though many they were tender reared,
+    No frost nor snow nor foe they feared.
+
+    Alas that youth so true and brave,
+    So many now do fill a grave,
+    And others they are maimed for life,
+    While engaged in glorious strife.
+
+    We have sprung from a good brave stock,
+    Rose, thistle and the shamrock,
+    Who all in unity agree,
+    'Neath the shade of the maple tree.
+
+    The Indians soon came to grief,
+    Under their great Poundmaker chief,
+    And Toronto troops gained fame
+    And Otter glory to his name.
+
+    We all felt proud of our gunboat
+    And the brave crew of the Northcote,
+    And of our scouts who captured Riel,
+    Who in vain for mercy did appeal.
+
+    And may all quickly come to grief
+    Who do not love the maple leaf,
+    For they spring from a noble tree,
+    Shades this land of the brave and free.
+
+
+
+
+BIG BEAR THE INDIAN CHIEF.
+
+The following impromptu was given at a banquet to one of the captives of
+Fort Pit after he had related his experience.
+
+
+    Sad memories it doth awake,
+    The death of those fell at Frog Lake,
+    And trials of captives of Fort Pit
+    When savages did capture it.
+
+    But soon Generals Strange and Steel
+    Made savage hordes their power to feel,
+    And they rescued women fair
+    From the paws of the Big Bear.
+
+    Captives for days had naught to eat
+    But steaks of tough and lean dog meat,
+    In daily danger of their lives
+    From bullets and from scalping knives.
+
+    When building big lodge for war dance,
+    The cry is heard, the troops advance,
+    To the white captives sounds so sweet,
+    But savages they quick retreat.
+
+    A thrilling tale our guest[A] did tell,
+    That close to him fell bursting shell,
+    This shot it was not fired in vain,
+    For several savages were slain.
+
+    Our bold troops great danger braved,
+    So that white captives might be saved,
+    Who suffered hunger, cold and damp,
+    'Mong savage hordes in bush and swamp.
+
+    Big Bear now they have pared his claws,
+    He must atone for broken laws,
+    Far away from his native lair,
+    In prison strong they put Big Bear.
+
+[A] MR. STANLEY SIMPSON.
+
+
+
+
+REMINISCENCES
+
+On the laying of the corner stone of the Brock monument at Queenston
+Heights, and the final interment of the General who had fallen at the
+battle of Queenston, Oct. 13th, 1812. The remains of his Aide, Col.
+McDonald, were also deposited under the new tower.
+
+
+    A wail went o'er broad Canada,
+    When it was known a vile outlaw
+    Had at midnight's awful hour,
+    With ruffian hand blown up the tower.
+
+    'Neath which had slept the gallant Brock
+    Who bravely fell on Queenston's rock,
+    But graceful column soon shall rise,
+    Its beauteous shaft will kiss the skies.
+
+    For from Queenston's woody height
+    You may behold a pleasing sight,
+    The grim old veterans of the war,
+    Militiamen with many a scar.
+
+    Indian braves from each nation,
+    Grouped to pay their last ovation,
+    Round the remains of General Brock,
+    Who led them oft in battle's shock.
+
+    Old heroes now again do rally,
+    Feebly they move along the valley,
+    Not as they rushed in days of yore
+    When torrent like they onward bore.
+
+    And swept away the foeman's ranks
+    O'er Niagara's rugged banks,
+    So indignant was their grief
+    On losing of their warrior chief.
+
+    Now with triumphant funeral car,
+    Adorned with implements of war,
+    The sad procession slow ascends,
+    As round the hill its way it wends.
+
+    Marching to mournful, solemn note,
+    While grand old flags around it float,
+    And now may peace be never broken
+    'Mong lands where Saxon tongue is spoken.
+
+    "For peace hath victories by far
+    More glorious than horrid war,"
+    England doth Longfellow revere,
+    And America loves Shakespeare.
+
+The oration on the above interesting occasion was delivered by the late
+Hon. William H. Merritt, projector of the Welland Canal. He served at
+the battle when a young man. We witnessed the interesting ceremony and
+shall never forget it.
+
+
+
+
+PATRIOTIC ODE
+
+Written at the time of the last excitement on the Niagara Frontier.
+
+
+    Rejoice, rejoice, we all do stand,
+    United in one mighty band;
+    No traitors in our land we find,
+    All one in heart, all one in mind;
+    Resolute in their opinion,
+    None shall conquer our Dominion;
+    For every man with dauntless mien
+    Will rally round our flag and Queen.
+
+
+
+
+PROVINCE OF ONTARIO.
+
+
+    In the land of woods and lakes,
+    Pure happiness each one partakes,
+    Who is sound in body and in mind,
+    And to industry is inclined.
+
+    Here in great lakes we do take pride,
+    And them with Uncle Sam divide,
+    Other lakes seem inferior
+    In size to great Superior.
+
+    And Canadians do take pride,
+    In Huron's wide expanded tide,
+    But it onward flows forever,
+    Through St. Clair lake and river.
+
+    But soon again it doth expand,
+    Into Erie's lake so grand,
+    Then behold its wondrous charms,
+    When embraced in Niagara's arms.
+
+    Then it more blessings doth bestow,
+    On pure bosom of Ontario,
+    Round it our towns and cities cluster,
+    O'er it Toronto sheds her lustre.
+
+    And Ontario doth awake,
+    The thought that 'tis our favorite lake;
+    Several states approach Lake Erie,
+    Each one claiming it for dearie.
+
+    But our fires of love do glow,
+    Alone for Lake Ontario,
+    Our love for it is so unbounded,
+    We have almost it surrounded.
+
+    And the lands around its beaches,
+    They are famed for grapes and peaches,
+    'Mong choicest fruits you ramble on
+    From Niagara to Hamilton.
+
+    Ontario North is land of pines,
+    A land of lakes and rocks and mines,
+    And beneath dark pine tree shade,
+    How happy is the youth and maid.
+
+    For here in summer you keep cool,
+    And fish for trout in sparkling pool,
+    For pike or salmon you can spear,
+    And in the season hunt the deer.
+
+    In great northern hunting ground,
+    Where both fish and game abound,
+    And verdant pastures here are seen,
+    Where cattle graze 'mong sweetest green.
+
+    In the far north a land of pines,
+    And in the south we have the vines,
+    Where each year adds into the charms,
+    Surrounds the homesteads on the farms.
+
+    Nature our province doth endow,
+    With hardy sons to guide the plow,
+    In south we have the fruitful soil,
+    Where nature's bounties on us smile.
+
+    We have got rich plains and highlands,
+    Ontario hath thousand islands,
+    And there is a great array
+    Of charming isles on Georgian Bay.
+
+    And travellers all they do adore,
+    The lovely isles near Huron's shore,
+    Superior makes a grand display,
+    All round her shores to Thunder Bay.
+
+    Muskoka's famed for woods and brakes,
+    For rocks and meadows and clear lakes,
+    And sportsmen for it proudly claim
+    That 'tis a land for fish and game.
+
+    There doth arise a sweet aroma
+    From great spruce forests of Algoma,
+    And from the poplar, birch and pine,
+    There too is wealth in many a mine.
+
+    It may be that of mines the best,
+    Will be found in Ontario West,
+    Stretching towards the interior,
+    Three hundred miles west of Superior.
+
+    Essex is our sunny south,
+    At the Detroit river's mouth,
+    There the sun doth cheerful smile
+    On the grape vineyards of Pelee Isle.
+
+    Pioneer's axe it now doth ring,
+    On the shores of Nipissing,
+    And some do locate claims away
+    To distant north around James' Bay.
+
+
+
+
+CANADIAN RIVERS AND LAKES.
+
+
+    We have here a sight as fair
+    As bonnie Doon or banks of Ayr,
+    Like modest worth meandering slow
+    The quiet waters gently flow,
+    Rose, thistle, shamrock, all combine,
+    Around the maple leaf to twine,
+    Whose outstretched arms so gigantic
+    Clasp Pacific and Atlantic,
+    Embracing lakes like burnished gold,
+    With joy a Shakespeare might behold,
+    For either Poet Burns or Moore[B]
+    Such scenery they would adore.
+
+[B] Tom Moore paddled his own canoe along the Canadian shore of Lake
+Erie and was enraptured with the view. He landed and remained over night
+at a farm house. His Canadian Boat Song is immortal.
+
+
+
+
+NIAGARA DRY.
+
+
+    It happened once in early spring,
+      While there did float great thick ice cakes,
+    That then a gale did quickly bring
+      Them all down from the upper lakes.
+
+    And from Buffalo to Lake Erie,
+      Across the entrance to river,
+    It was a scene of icebergs dreary,
+      Those who saw will remember ever.
+
+    Then gale blew up lake and river,
+      And left Niagara almost dry,
+    This a lady did discover
+      As above the Falls she cast her eye.
+
+    Such scene it had been witnessed never,
+      Since Israelites crossed the Red Sea,
+    When they had resolved forever
+      From Pharaoh's bondage to flee.
+
+    Lady she resolved to venture,
+      Proudly carrying British flag,
+    Erecting it in river's centre
+      In crevice of a rocky crag.
+
+    It seems like a romance by Bulwer,
+      How she captured Niagara,
+    But it was seen by Bishop Fuller,
+      Who did at sight of flag hurrah.
+
+    Ten thousand years may die away
+      Before another dry can tread,
+    In bottom of Niagara,
+      For she doth jealous guard her bed.
+
+    But ice her entrance did blockade,
+      And wind it kept the waters back,
+    So that a child could almost wade
+      Across the brink of cataract.
+
+
+
+
+UNITED BY STEEL RAILS.
+
+
+    When Indian tribes in the Northwest
+      Rebelled against the Eastern laws,
+    Canadian courage it did test,
+      All were united in the cause.
+
+    But how shall volunteers proceed
+      Such distance, several thousand miles,
+    Will they in their dark hour of need
+      Ask Uncle Sam with pleasant smiles
+
+    For to allow our volunteers
+      To pass o'er their north railroad,
+    Perhaps subject to doubts and fears,
+      Where British soldiers never trod.
+
+    But there went up a glad hurrah
+      When it was found that in our land,
+    Almost finished was railway,
+      And trains do wait for word command,
+
+    To bear away our volunteers
+      To those far North distant lands,
+    But dispelled were all their fears
+      When they rode over those steel bands,
+
+    Which bound young nation all in one,
+      Before detached and all apart,
+    Shoulder to shoulder now each one
+      Feels patriot feelings in his heart,
+
+    First time we truly realize
+      The value of this great railway,
+    Its benefits each now doth prize,
+      Highway to Japan and Australia.
+
+    The policy it has proved wise,
+      Which did build this great railway,
+    The vast Northwest to colonize,
+      And bear its products far away.
+
+    Canadian flags are now unfurled
+      In the ports of the Chinese,
+    Short route to Oriental world
+      Gives Canada her cheap fine teas.
+
+
+
+
+LORNE AND LOUISE.
+
+Lines written on the arrival of Governor Lorne and the Princess Louise
+in Canada.
+
+
+    The tidings now all hearts do please,
+    That she has landed safe, Louise,
+    Victoria's beloved daughter,
+    Who boldly has crossed the water,
+    For royal Princess doth adorn
+    The title of the Lord of Lorne,
+    For this union it doth join
+    Campbell with Royal Stewart line;
+    Lorne will be Duke of broad Argyle,
+    And the Lord of many an Isle.
+    When he inherits broad domain
+    May he strive tenants hearts to gain.
+    To us it seems a brighter morn
+    Hath dawned on us with Governor Lorne,
+    And when they visited this place
+    True happiness beamed on each face,
+    The first white child who here was born
+    Presented was to Governor Lorne,
+    From Forest 'ere it was reclaimed,
+    Our fine town after him was named.
+
+
+
+
+CANADIAN SPORTS AND GAMES AND PLAYS.
+
+
+    Burns sang of joys of Hallowe'en
+    But in Canada is often seen
+    By far more jolly times than these
+    At logging raising, paring bees,
+    For here the youth is not afraid
+    To trip it with a pretty maid,
+    For this at night is his reward
+    For working at the bee so hard,
+    And oft times till the break of day
+    At forfeits they will merry play,
+    For he doth win e'en though he miss,
+    If from sweet lass he gets a kiss,
+    But in its place doth justly prize
+    His tea and cakes and pumpkin pies.
+
+    When winter comes it brings no gloom
+    But makes fresh pleasures spring and bloom,
+    For when the youth longs for a bride
+    He gives his girl a grand sleigh ride,
+    Which to them both doth pleasures bring
+    While merry sleigh bells cheery ring,
+    And with the fair maid of his choice
+    He graceful skates with her on ice,
+    Charming mode of locomotion
+    Gliding o'er a polished ocean,
+    Such joys they soon do love evolve,
+    And they on union do resolve,
+    He is happy with his chosen,
+    For warm love gets never frozen.
+
+    And young folks oft they do take pride,
+    How swift they down the hill can glide,
+    And they bravely dare the frost king
+    So they may enjoy the coasting,
+    Each striving for to lead the van
+    In the swift shooting toboggan.
+
+    And on the ice men love to hurl
+    The polished blocks to skilful curl,
+    And curlers all do proudly claim
+    Their's is a manly healthy game,
+    And in Canadians you trace
+    A generous, hardy and brave race.
+
+    And brilliant as a fairy hall
+    Is scenes on ice at carnival,
+    Before the gale in an ice boat
+    It swiftly o'er the ice doth float,
+    The sensation is you fly
+    Like lightning shooting through the sky.
+
+    In summer time the youth do toss
+    The baseball and do play lacrosse,
+    And tradition doth for it claim
+    That 'tis an ancient Indian game,
+    And if a foe invade we can,
+    Drive them back with clubs Canadian.
+
+
+
+
+NIAGARA'S CHARMS AND DEATH OF WEBB.
+
+
+    Gazing on rapids mighty sea,
+    Struggling fiercely to be free,
+    But drawn downwards in its course
+    By gravitation's wondrous force,
+    O'er those perpendicular walls,
+    Hurled 'mong mighty rocks it falls,
+    Causing the earth to throb and shake
+    Like to the tremor of earthquake.
+
+    Thus the world's greatest wonder
+    Reverberates like peals of thunder,
+    Enshrined with mist and beauteous glow
+    Of varied tints of the rainbow,
+    Most glorious sight the human eye
+    Hath ever seen beneath the sky,
+    Along these banks none ever trod
+    But did feel grateful to his God,
+    For lavishing with bounteous hand
+    Glories majestic and so grand.
+
+    The foaming billows soon are seen
+    Transformed into a beauteous green,
+    Plunged by whirlpools dread commotion
+    It becomes a seething ocean,
+    Where furies join in surging dance
+    From centre to circumference,
+    This is the favorite abode
+    Of Neptune, mightiest sea God,
+    He hath decreed none shall survive
+    Who will into this vortex dive.
+
+    Webb swam the English channel brave,
+    Like seabird he did love to lave
+    His breast upon the mightiest wave,
+    Alas, found here a watery grave;
+    Torrent onward rushes frantic
+    On its course to the Atlantic,
+    But on its way doth gently flow
+    Through blue lake Ontario,
+    Rejoicing on its way it smiles,
+    Kissing the shores of Thousand Isles,
+    Mingling with St. Lawrance motion,
+    It soon is blended with the ocean.
+
+
+
+
+DEPARTED STATESMEN.
+
+
+With a glance at Sir John A. Macdonald and Blake, the two living
+leaders, 1884.
+
+    Joseph Howe, none higher stood than thou,
+    Thou wert a man with lofty brow;
+    D'Arcy McGee, so brilliant and free,
+    From green isle you came o'er the sea.
+
+    George Cartier to the French ever dear,
+    So high you stood without a peer;
+    John Sandfield for long you did build
+    Power under economy's shield.
+
+    George Brown, thou man of renown,
+    Confederation you did crown;
+    You now are all free from the strife
+    The wrangle and jangle of political life.
+
+    But if a glance at this world you take
+    You will there see John A. and Blake,
+    But Sir John the greatest power doth wield,
+    Our Canadian Beaconsfield.
+
+
+
+
+THE OLD SNAKE FENCE.
+
+
+    In early times the pioneer
+    When a few acres he did clear,
+    He found 'an ample recompense
+    For splitting rails and making fence.
+
+    Though it was crooked as a snake,
+    And zigzag style did not awake,
+    He thought it was a thing of beauty,
+    Yet in its day it did its duty.
+
+    And though the old snake fence must fall,
+    'Twas easy made, axe, wedge and maul,
+    Were all the tools the pioneer
+    Required the old rail fence to rear.
+
+    And the old pioneer could boast
+    Of fence that did not need a post,
+    To build it now is waste of timber,
+    And fertile lands it doth cumber.
+
+    And pine stump fence with its sharp roots
+    Will long endure and ward off brutes,
+    For the crops they ample shield
+    And do protect each separate field.
+
+    But old style fence doth waste much land,
+    Where weeds do grow and bush expand,
+    And thistle down doth blow from thence,
+    So folks build wire and the board fence.
+
+
+
+
+CANADIAN VOYAGEURS ON THE NILE.
+
+
+    The British soldiers on the Nile
+    With gratitude did kindly smile,
+    On the Canadian voyageurs
+    Who skilfully did ply their oars.
+
+    And they invoked their benison
+    On boatsmen led by Denison,
+    Neither the rapids nor the falls
+    Along the Nile these braves appals.
+
+    For in such toils they did partake,
+    On each native stream and lake,
+    Thoughts of their homes in visions throng,
+    While singing Canadian boat song.
+
+    And they all hoped again to see
+    The glorious land of maple tree,
+    From their memories they never
+    Forgot the land of lake and river.
+
+    While up the Nile they do advance
+    They dream about their own St. Lawrence,
+    And Manitoba's streams and lakes,
+    Pleasant reflections oft awakes.
+
+    And thus each day they cheerful toil,
+    Ascending of old Father Nile,
+    Whose waters fertilize the soil,
+    And is the home of crocodile.
+
+    Wolseley he had exhibition
+    In Red River expedition,
+    How these voyageurs could steer,
+    Or with the axe a roadway clear.
+
+    Those who speak the tongue of France,
+    From the banks of the St. Lawrence,
+    At call to arms quick advance,
+    With rifle, bayonet and lance.
+
+
+
+
+LAND CLEARING.
+
+
+    The first winter which I did spend
+    In Canada was with a friend,
+    And when the snow had passed away
+    Quite early in the month of May.
+
+    Friend started off for a barn raising,
+    And told me to get stumps ablazing,
+    Around each stump I heaped a pile
+    Of roots and junks of wood so vile.
+
+    For he wished the field to clear
+    So it a crop of wheat would rear,
+    And there was one high withered pine
+    Which was full of turpentine.
+
+    As soon as I applied the torch,
+    Blaze quick did start and it did scorch
+    The fences, and the woods were nigh,
+    For the old tree it blazed on high.
+
+    I was the only man or boy
+    Near there that day and found employ
+    In saving of the house and barn,
+    Thus early fire fiend did me warn.
+
+    Fire started and with it a breeze
+    Carried the sparks 'mong leaves of trees,
+    I did work hard but for recompense
+    All was saved but a few rails of fence.
+
+    Man in spring logging oft awakes
+    From winter slumbers nests of snakes,
+    And listens to the music grand
+    Of bull frogs, our Canadian band.
+
+
+
+
+LINES READ AT A MAPLE SUGAR SOCIAL, APRIL, 1888.
+
+
+    Our first Canadian job when boy,
+    In the big woods we did enjoy,
+    Large maple bush we then did tap
+    And to camp carried maple sap.
+
+    We stored it in great wooden trough,
+    Then in big kettles sugared off,
+    Though often it did try our mettle
+    To keep up fire beneath each kettle.
+
+    For it was a serious toil
+    To cut the wood to kettles boil,
+    To-night it is a pleasant joke,
+    No trouble from the fire and smoke.
+
+    Of old we thought our neck was broke
+    By having on it a neckyoke,
+    And on each side a heavy pail
+    Suspended from the yoke by bail.
+
+    We waded through the snow and slush
+    And stumbled o'er the logs in bush,
+    But no doubt the maple's sweeter
+    Than any other thing in meter.
+
+    Unless it is the lips of lass,
+    Which maple sugar doth surpass,
+    And may it be each young man's fate
+    For to secure a charming mate.
+
+    For birds will soon begin to sing
+    And seek their mates in early spring,
+    When found each pair do feel they're blest,
+    When they have finished their warm nest.
+
+    Let none at sugar making scoff,
+    Webster was rocked in a sap trough;
+    When boiling sap it is quite handy
+    To pour some in snow to make candy.
+
+
+
+
+CANADIAN ROMANCE.
+
+
+    An English youth to Canada came,
+    A labourer, John Roe by name,
+    His little wealth had made him bold,
+    Twenty sovereigns in gold;
+    He was industrious and wise
+    And e'en small sums did not despise,
+    He added to his wealth each year
+    For independence he loved dear,
+    He knew a laborer he would be
+    Forever in the old country,
+    His forefathers had tilled the ground
+    And never one had saved a pound.
+    On beds of down they did not lie
+    And frugally their goods did buy,
+    Their one luxury around their door
+    A few choice flowers their garden bore,
+    But never hoped to own the soil
+    But serve as hinds to sweat and toil,
+    To work and toil for him had charm
+    He hoped some day to own a farm,
+    So he hired with Reuben Tripp
+    The wealthiest man in the township.
+    Tripp's only child, his daughter Jane,
+    He sought her love and not in vain,
+    As Jacob served for Rachel dear
+    So John he served year after year,
+    Till rich enough to buy bush farm
+    For to chop down with his strong arm.
+    The truest nobleman of all
+    He lives not in ancestral hall,
+    But sheltereth family from harm
+    By logs rolled up by his strong arm,
+    In this young glorious land so free
+    Where each may rear his own roof tree,
+    And the chief glory of old days
+    Broad fire place where big logs did blaze,
+    As much as four strong men could handle,
+    They served alike for heat and candle;
+    He his young oxen did adorn
+    With fine gay ribbons on each horn,
+    And to his home with joy and pride
+    He did bring sweet blooming bride,
+    Such happiness is seldom seen,
+    Happier far than king or queen;
+    She helped him in the fields to reap,
+    And spun the wool from off the sheep,
+    All they required they had for both,
+    Of her own weaving of good cloth,
+    And she was a good tailoress,
+    Did make his coat and her own dress;
+    The golden butter that she made
+    Was of the very finest grade,
+    Each grace and virtue she possess'd,
+    Where'er she was, that spot was blessed,
+    And though they did not have stove then,
+    Neither did they own an oven;
+    She filled large pot with well knead dough
+    And baked fine bread 'mong embers glow;
+    He each winter the forest trees
+    Did quickly hew them down with ease,
+    For he to work had a desire
+    And the skill did soon acquire,
+    But round great giants hewed a ring
+    Then storms would soon them prostrate bring,
+    For many a time the furious breeze
+    Would quick o'erthrow the girdled trees,
+    And sometimes they would kill the cows
+    When they did feed on grass or browse,
+    But after reckoning damage all
+    A benefit was each windfall;
+    Though good fortune now he sees
+    Might have been got from Walnut trees;
+    But trees were foes in his hurry,
+    All were slain, both oak and cherry,
+    And to this day he doth incline
+    To mourn o'er slaughter of the pine,
+    And reflects how he did o'erwhelm
+    Many a maple, beech and elm;
+    And each summer day did toil
+    With his steers drawing logs in pile;
+    These giants of the forest dead,
+    Fire did reduce to an ash bed,
+    And soon potatoes, wheat and corn,
+    They did the rugged stumps adorn,
+    And Jane did help him with the hoe,
+    And well she did keep her row:
+    No organs then they had to play,
+    But she could work and sing all day;
+    In spring he did live maples tap
+    To draw from them the luscious sap,
+    He gathered it in big log trough,
+    Then boiled it down and sugared off,
+    Enough the household for to cheer,
+    With all its sweets for the whole year,
+    And no such thing those times were seen
+    As the swift raising stump machine,
+    And where main road was low and damp
+    With logs he built a road through swamp,
+    But a smooth ride could not enjoy
+    While it was naught but corduroy,
+    Each year added earth and gravel,
+    Now smoothly o'er they can travel,
+    For it doth make an excellent road
+    For John and Jane to go abroad,
+    And it is now a great highway
+    Where hundreds travel every day.
+    There were no roads in early days
+    But bridle path, their guide the blaze,
+    And mills and marts so far away,
+    They never could return same day;
+    Log school house served as church for all,
+    Of various creeds, and for town hall.
+    These scenes to youth do now seem strange
+    So wondrous quick hath been the change,
+    O'er paths where oxen only trod,
+    Cows quickly speed o'er the railroad,
+    And every way both up and down
+    There has sprung up a thriving town.
+    No more he fights with forest trees,
+    But both enjoy their wealth and ease,
+    Long since the old folks both are gone
+    And left the whole to Jane and John;
+    The log house now has passed away
+    With all its chinks filled in with clay,
+    And in its place fine house of stone
+    With lawn where choice shrubs are grown.
+    With sons and daughters they are blest,
+    The young men say they'll move Northwest;
+    This gives their mother some alarm,
+    She wants them still on the home farm,
+    But father will not have them tarry
+    They can plow so quick on prairie,
+    And they find coal makes a good fire,
+    And build their fences of barbed wire
+    They would not be forever gone
+    As they could talk by telephone.
+
+We have been congratulated by many on the truthfulness of the Romance of
+Canada. They declare it is not a romance but a true picture of rise and
+progress of worthy people in Canada.
+
+
+
+
+LAMENT OF THE MAPLE TREE.
+
+A VISION.
+
+"We had a dream which was not all a dream."--Byron.
+
+
+    I laid me down one day in June,
+    It was late long afternoon,
+    A very sultry summer's eve,
+    Such times the senses oft deceive,
+    The place was 'neath a maple tree,
+    Soon from all cares and troubles free,
+    By a gentle, kindly slumber,
+    No more our sorrows we could number,
+    But we heard a plaintive wail
+    Such as we find in fairy tale,
+    It was the genius of the tree
+    Who in sad guise appeared to me,
+    And then she sadly did give vent
+    Unto this awful grave lament:
+    Though I am gay in month of June,
+    All decked in green, yet very soon,
+    Alas my beauty will be faded
+    And my charms be all degraded,
+    For is my time of glory brief,
+    So often flattered is my leaf.
+    In Canada so broad and free
+    All poets sing of the maple tree,
+    High I stand in their opinion,
+    Emblem of the New Dominion,
+    The reason I do them upbraid
+    Some never slept beneath my shade,
+    And yet they take the liberty
+    To chant about the maple tree,
+    They dare to poetise my leaf,
+    This is the source of all my grief,
+    I think their praises all so rude
+    And as but base ingratitude,
+    So often hackneyed is my name
+    That every fall I burn with shame,
+    Like maiden's cheek which blushes red
+    When vain rash youth asks her to wed,
+    Then do these foolish ones descry
+    In me fresh beauty and they sigh,
+    And then renew their songs of praise.
+    But unto me how sad their lays,
+    For then I know my days are brief,
+    'Tis hectic flush upon my leaf;
+    True poets then should mournful sing
+    When the destroyer's on the wing,
+    For then I know my leaves of gold
+    Will all soon mingle with the mould,
+    No one does ever think to praise
+    The fell destroyer when he slays,
+    None rejoice in the flushed cheek
+    When the poor girl is low and weak,
+    Perhaps they'll say and it is true
+    In spring my glories I'll renew,
+    But 'tis poor comfort after all
+    To lose my offspring every fall,
+    Small consolation to mother
+    To tell her that soon another
+    Will replace her fond darling boy
+    Who has been source of all her joy,
+    But you know all about my wood
+    You know that it is strong and good,
+    And I have full many a curl
+    And pleasing eye and charming nurl,
+    Some love me as fond nature grained
+    And some prefer my beauty stained,
+    But my dear friend I hope that you
+    My varied shades love pure and true,
+    For of the woods you know the staple
+    Stoutest and best is good maple,
+    The youth my sugar eat with glee,
+    And old maids love me in their tea,
+    In me do various uses meet
+    In summer shade, in winter heat,
+    For I do make a glorious blaze
+    All worthy of the poet's lays,
+    But to their praises I'll be deaf
+    If more they harp about my leaf.
+    They call me gay when I am sober
+    To me 'tis gloomy month October,
+    But saints on earth when they die
+    Hope for true bliss beyond the sky,
+    So winter does bring no alarms
+    Though it strip bare my trunk and arms,
+    For now I know that time will bring
+    More glorious foliage in the spring,
+    Then all nature will rejoice
+    Triumphing with glorious voice,
+    And birds will in my branches sing
+    Hosannas to the lovely spring.
+
+The nurls and birds' eyes and curls were highly prized in furniture
+thirty years ago, when we used the smooth plain.
+
+
+
+
+LIFE IN THE WOODS.
+
+(Life of the early settlers.)
+
+
+    Canada hath wealthy yeomen
+    Whose fathers overcome the foemen,
+    The enemy they boldly slew
+    Was mighty forests they did hew,
+    And where they burned heaps of slain
+    Their sons now reap the golden grain,
+    But in the region of Northwest
+    With prairie farms they are blest.
+    Though this to them it may seem good
+    Yet many blessings come from wood,
+    It shelters you from the fierce storm
+    And in the winter keeps you warm,
+    For one who hath his forest trees
+    He builds his house and barn with ease,
+    And how quick he gets from thence
+    Timber for bridge and for his fence.
+
+
+
+
+THE JOYS OF PRAIRIE FARMERS 1884.
+
+
+    We let Ontario farmers sing
+    About the joys the woods do bring,
+    But we in regions of Northwest
+    Do think prairie farms the best,
+    For those poor men who swing the axe
+    On their strength 'tis a heavy tax,
+    For several years they naught can grow
+    While from the first we plow and sow,
+    And while we plow we don't get thumps
+    By running it against the stumps,
+    And where wild Buffalo now doth feed
+    There very soon they'll sow the seed,
+    Where Indian wigwams now do stand
+    Will be the site of cities grand,
+    And where the deer and wolf doth roam
+    Millions will build each happy home,
+    So quick as if by magic wand
+    They will arise o'er the whole land,
+    But this one fact we won't deny
+    Ontario she can supply,
+    For so skilfully she doth invent
+    Each agricultural implement.
+
+
+
+
+CANADA OUR HOME, 1883.
+
+
+The following response to Canada our home was given at a banquet of the
+Caledonian Society, Ingersoll:
+
+In responding to the sentiment Canada our home perhaps it would be
+appropriate to point out the prominent and distinguishing
+characteristics between the land of our nativity and the land of our
+adoption. In this Canada of ours we have no bonny blooming heath, no
+banks and braes covered o'er with daisies and gowans, no fragrant hedges
+showering down white spray in the May time, no whin and broom prodigal
+in their gaiety of yellow flowers, no hills nor glens where fairies
+gambol in pleasant and harmless sport, no grand ruins of ancient
+cathedrals and castles, no feathered songsters like the mavis and
+blackbird.
+
+    Full oft we did enraptured hark
+    To heavenly song of the skylark.
+
+But Canada is a young giant in its infancy with the noblest chain of
+lakes in the world on its frontier, and the most magnificent river the
+St. Lawrence. This land also possesses the largest fertile wilderness on
+the globe, but it is one which will ere many years have passed away,
+blossom like a garden, and where naught but grass and flowers now grow
+in wild luxuriance. Soon the husbandman will plow and sow and reap a
+rich reward in yellow golden grain. Domestic cattle quiet will graze
+where now the Buffalos roam and in spots now covered o'er with Indian
+wigwams, where white men never trod cities will occupy their sites with
+busy trade and millions flock from eastern lands to take possession of
+the great Northwest. Then Winnipeg perchance may be the capital of the
+Dominion. In the day foretold when this indeed shall be the "Greater
+Britain" with Ontario's towns for workshops for this vast prairie land.
+
+    Then poets will arise and high their lays will soar,
+    Worthy of the muse of a Burns or a Moore,
+    A Shakespeare and a Milton, the great and the wise,
+    Will sing of the glories of our northern skies,
+    Of its lakes and rivers and its mountains grand,
+    Of its fertile plains and great prairie land,
+    A fit theme for song this empire gigantic,
+    Whose arms stretch from Pacific to Atlantic.
+
+
+
+
+LINES ON VIOLETS.
+
+
+    Once, while digging 'neath the snow,
+    'Mid Canadian winter, lo!
+    To our joy and surprise
+      We saw some violets in full bloom,
+    Gazing at us with loving eyes,
+      Thanking us for opening their tomb,
+    Yet still they seemed so cozy and nice
+    Enshrined in the crystal ice,
+    While all else were drooping dead
+    Gaily they held up their head.
+
+
+
+
+CANADIAN CHARMS.
+
+
+    Here industry is not in vain,
+    For we have bounteous crops of grain,
+    And you behold on every field
+    Of grass and roots abundant yield,
+    But after all the greatest charm
+    Is the snug home upon the farm,
+    And stone walls now keep cattle warm.
+
+
+
+
+DONALD ROSS.
+
+
+    By the side of a moss
+    Lived young Donald Ross,
+    Among the heathery hills
+    And the mountain rills,
+    In a snug little cot
+    Content with his lot
+    He never knew sorrow
+    With his wife and wee Flora.
+
+    But an order went forth
+    O'er the land of the north,
+    To burn many a home
+    So the wild deer might roam,
+    With grief he then did toss
+    Every night Donald Ross,
+    And sad seemed the morrow
+    For his wife and sma' Flora.
+
+    O it was a cruel deed
+    But nobles do not heed
+    The sorrows of the poor
+    Drove on a barren moor,
+    Where he wove a wreath
+    Of the blooming heath,
+    For to crown with glory
+    The brow of little Flory.
+
+    He then bade farewell
+    To his mountain dell,
+    Where his fathers appears
+    Had lived a thousand years,
+    With their few goats and sheep
+    Which feed on hills so steep,
+    O it was a sad story
+    For bonnie little Flory.
+
+    He sought a distant strand,
+    In Canada bought land,
+    To him a glorious charm
+    To view his own broad farm,
+    His horses and his cows,
+    Cultivators and plows,
+    And now his daughter Flora
+    She is the flower of Zorra.
+
+
+
+
+PATRIOT FIGHTING FOR HIS HOME.
+
+
+    On the shores of the northern lakes
+    An infant giant now awakes,
+    He has long time been in a dream,
+    But now is roused by engine's scream.
+
+    For mighty spirits are abroad
+    Traversing of each great railroad,
+    For it is a glorious theme
+    The peaceful conquest made by steam.
+
+    But should the foot of invader vile
+    Ever desecrate his soil,
+    He firm will meet him bold and brave
+    And give him soil Canadian grave.
+
+
+
+
+FIGHTING FOR CONQUEST.
+
+
+    'Tis noble for to fight for home,
+      But some nations fight to plunder,
+    For conquest o'er the world to roam,
+      To tear peaceful lands asunder.
+
+    For to give wealth and a great name
+      To some aspiring commander,
+    Who wishes to acquire great fame
+      As a modern Alexander.
+
+    Statesmen and kings a war will wage,
+      And many thousands strew the plain,
+    Covered with gore in the carnage,
+      Where brave and noble men are slain.
+
+    Leaving their families to mourn,
+      Now who can soothe the ills of life,
+    To them they never shall return,
+      No one can now cheer the poor wife.
+
+    Or the sweet little orphans dear
+      Think of father and of mother,
+    Of sweetheart, sister and of brother,
+      Who oft will shed the fruitless tear.
+
+
+
+
+CANADIAN AUTHORS.
+
+MRS. MOODY.
+
+In giving a glance at various Canadian authors perhaps it would be well
+to commence with that early writer Mrs. Moody. She was a sister of the
+celebrated Agnes Strickland, author of "The Queens of England."
+
+
+    When this country it was woody,
+    Its great champion Mrs. Moody,
+    Showed she had both pluck and push
+    In her work roughing in the bush.
+
+    For there alone she did dwell
+    At time McKenzie did rebel,
+    Outbreak her husband strove to quell,
+    Her own grand struggles she doth tell.
+
+    Round bush life she threw a glory,
+    Pioneer renowned in story,
+    But her tale it is more cheering
+    When she wrote about the clearing.
+
+    Her other sister Mrs. Traill[C]
+    Though eighty-seven she doth not fail,
+    She now is writing of wild flowers
+    Grown in Canada's woody bowers.
+
+[C] Mrs. Traill lives near Peterboro. Mrs. Moody died in Toronto. I sent
+her a copy of my poems in 1885, and she thanked me for the same through
+a friend as she was in feeble health at the time.
+
+
+T. D. MCGEE.
+
+Having been kindly invited as a member of the Mechanics' Institute some
+25 years ago by the late Jeremiah O'Neill, Esq., to meet that gentleman
+in company with a number of our townsmen, when Mr. McGee was rising from
+the table the chair being new stuck to him, and it being near a general
+election he very wittily remarked that he hoped the people of Montreal
+would be as anxious to retain him in his seat as the people here are. We
+wrote the following lines at the time, the last verse was added
+afterwards.
+
+
+    D Arcy McGee,
+    All compliment thee,
+    The hope of the land
+    On your lecture so grand.
+
+    Though that is your forte,
+    Oh give us the sport
+    Of an hour of your chat,
+    Then we'll laugh and grow fat.
+
+    For none but the vile
+    Could 'ere cease to smile,
+    When near to thee
+    So brilliant and free.
+
+    Plant of green Erin's isle,
+    Long in Canadian soil,
+    May you take deep root
+    And bear much noble fruit.
+
+    Our hopes were in vain,
+    Alas he is slain,
+    By a crankish hand
+    The flower of the land.
+
+
+GEORGE MENZIES' POEMS, 1883.
+
+About one third of a century ago there flourished in Canada three
+Scottish editors, all of whom were poets, McQueen of the Huron Signal,
+Goderich, who wrote a grand song on "Our Broad Lake," and McGeorge of
+the Streetsville Review. The following lines are on George Menzies who
+was a Woodstock editor.
+
+
+    One day while passing 'long the road
+    On a small book we almost trod,
+    Its leaves were scattered o'er the ground,
+    We picked them up and when we found
+
+    The author's name, it did inspire
+    Us with a very strong desire
+    To read the little volume through,
+    For most of it to us was new.
+
+    He doth sing of land of heather
+    And Canadian scenes together,
+    He did adore Niagara's roar
+    Where mighty flood o'er fall doth pour.
+
+    But poets lives are often brief
+    And he had his full share of grief,
+    Which to his life did gloom impart,
+    But he bore up with his brave heart.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Lines sent to Thomas Conant of Oshawa, a writer of Canadian sketches
+
+
+    We do greet thee Thomas Conant,
+      You truthful paint Canadian charms,
+    And you are the great exponent
+      Of beauties of her woods and farms.
+
+    You give fine sketch of bird and fowl,
+      Of the blue jay and the plover,
+    And of great white Canadian owl,
+      All proves of nature you're a lover.
+
+
+ROBERT FLEMING GOURLEY.
+
+Robert F. Gourley was a graduate of St. Andrew's University, Scotland.
+He was the first to agitate for popular rights in Canada. He was
+banished from the country and while crossing the Niagara River he asked
+for a brush to wipe Canadian dust from his feet. He became a champion of
+popular rights in England and he whipped Lord Brougham in the lobby of
+the House of Commons, for which breach of privilege he was sentenced by
+the House. Mr. Gourley owned several farms in Oxford, Ontario, and
+sought to represent South Oxford in 1858, but Dr. Connor, an uncle of
+Hon. E. Blake, won the seat; Mr. Blake was his uncle's secretary through
+the contest when he was a youth.
+
+
+    There came to Oxford Robert Gourley,
+    In his old age his health was poorly;
+    He was a relic of the past,
+    In his dotage sinking fast;
+    Yet he was erect and tall
+    Like noble ruined castle wall.
+    In early times they did him impeach
+    For demanding right of speech,
+    Now Oxford he wished to represent
+    In Canadian parliament,
+    But him the riding did not honor,
+    But elected Doctor Connor.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Lines sent to Alexander McLaughlan, Amaranth Station, with a copy of my
+poems:
+
+
+    We send to you these rugged rhymes
+    In memory of the olden times,
+    Great chief of our poetic clan,
+    Admired by all, McLaughlan.
+
+
+
+
+PROLOGUE TO SOUTH ONTARIO SKETCHES.
+
+The district lying South of Georgian Bay and Lake Simcoe, including
+Toronto.
+
+
+    My friends we sing Canadian themes,
+      For in them we proudly glory,
+    Her lakes and rivers and her streams,
+      Worthy of renown in story;
+    And in these leaves we hope is strewn
+      Some wheat among the chaff,
+    And maple boughs by rude axe hewn,
+      Where one may find a rustic staff;
+    To help him o'er the rugged lines
+      If he to weariness inclines.
+    Some see no beauties near to home,
+      But do admire the distant far,
+    They always love abroad to roam,
+      View glory in but far off star;
+    But let it never be forgot
+      That distant hills when closer seen
+    Are after all a barren spot
+      Not like your own hills clad in green;
+    You'll find they are but idle dreams
+      To seek for happiness afar.
+    At home there's lovely lakes and streams,
+      Remain content now where you are;
+    At us we hope you will not rage
+      Because we sing of local charms
+    In each varied town and village
+      As well as round our local farms,
+    But our address it must be brief,
+      So now we bid you all adieu,
+    But of our book pray read each leaf
+      Until the whole you have gone through;
+    Each one doth know it is not wise,
+      Though our songs may not be vocal,
+    Chants of our home for to despise,
+      But prize them 'cause they are local.
+
+
+
+
+HOLLAND RIVER AND ITS TRIBUTARIES.
+
+Meanderings of a stream rises twenty miles north of Toronto and sweeps
+around the whole of Southern Ontario.
+
+
+    We love to sing of tiny stream,
+      Through the lowland meadows running,
+    To us it is a pleasing theme,
+      Tracing it from first beginning.
+
+    'Tis strange how far a brook will roam,
+      Moving onwards in its motion,
+    And not content till it reaches home,
+      Two thousand miles to distant ocean.
+
+    In county York springs a small brook,
+      A few miles north of Ontario,
+    But it doth take a wondrous crook,
+      It northward many miles doth flow.
+
+    Brook's progress south is stopped by ridge,
+      Doth debar its southern course,
+    So a long journey it don't grudge,
+      But slowly on its way doth force.
+
+    And it discharges at its mouth
+      Into the pure clear lake Simcoe,
+    It still flows north for to get south,
+      As onward still its course doth go.
+
+    Rejoicing along its way,
+      Hundreds of miles it doth flow west,
+    Blended in the Georgian Bay,
+      For a moment it doth not rest.
+
+    Mingling with Huron and St. Clair,
+      Erie and Niagara river,
+    Even at the Falls it don't despair,
+      But it cheerful flows forever.
+
+    One thousand miles round an ox bow,
+      It hath flowed back near its first start,
+    To waters of Ontario,
+      Where ridge at first kept it apart.
+
+    From south of ridge two rivers flow,
+      Both the Don and the Humber,
+    Embracing city of Toronto,
+      Hath attractions without number.
+
+    The fame will spread far and wide,
+      First of Don and then of Humber,
+    Improved rivers like to the Clyde,
+      With wharves for coal, wood, iron and lumber.
+
+
+
+
+ST. CATHARINES.
+
+Lines read at the Welland House, St. Catharines, at a banquet given to
+the members in attendance at the Oddfellows' Grand Lodge.
+
+
+    St. Catharines famed for mineral waters
+    And for the beauty of her daughters,
+    For some do worship at the shrines
+    Of the fair St. Catharines.
+
+    St. Catharines your greatness you inherit
+    From the genius of a Merritt,
+    You still would be a village dreary
+    But for this canal from lake Erie.
+
+    For on its bosom there doth float
+    Full many a ship and steamboat,
+    Brings world's commerce to your doors
+    And many gifts on you it pours.
+
+    Among its many great rewards
+    It gives you dry docks and ship yards,
+    To drive your mills great water power
+    It doth give you as a dower.
+
+    Since we above lines did compose,
+    Through new canal vast stream it flows,
+    The lock gates at the hill at Thorold
+    Can not be equaled in the world.
+
+
+
+
+BRANTFORD.
+
+In these sketches of towns in Southern Ontario we are not vain enough to
+suppose that because we have produced some lines thereon that said
+rhymes are poetry. If we furnish an occasional poetic gleam like a
+dewdrop sparkling in the sun, it is all we dare hope for.
+
+
+    Brantford as thriving city's famed,
+    And after Indian Chief is named,
+    And here the sparkling Grand River
+    It doth flow a joy forever.
+
+    Campbell he sang a dismal tale
+    Of horrors of Wyoming's vale,
+    The tale one's mind doth ever haunt,
+    The cruelties of monster Brant.
+
+    But the Chief's son to England went
+    And Campbell to him did lament,
+    And all the tale he did recant
+    About cruel butcheries of Brant.
+
+    Now pleasant thoughts it doth awake
+    When Brantford thinks of her namesake,
+    She evermore with pride will chant
+    The bold heroic name of Brant.
+
+    We sing of two great Indian names,
+    Tecumseh on the banks of Thames,
+    And the Grand River it doth vaunt
+    O'er the historic name of Brant.
+
+    The city's pride it doth find vent
+    In building him a monument,
+    And Indians will proudly stalk
+    Past memorial of great Mohawk.
+
+
+
+
+LINES ON THOROLD.
+
+McCready, the great Irish tragedian, said that the view from Thorold was
+the finest in America.
+
+
+    Thorold is famous for its mills,
+    And the grand view from off its hills,
+    A view so charming and extended,
+    Nature's beauties sweetly blended.
+
+    Poetic thoughts it doth awake
+    To view Ontario's broad lake,
+    And husbandmen have their reward in
+    Fruits of this Provincial garden.
+
+    For from the hill you see below
+    Gardens where choice fruits do grow,
+    The landscape all within your reach
+    Doth both produce the grape and peach.
+
+    McCready said in the New World
+    The finest view was from Thorold,
+    You see St. Catharines thriving town
+    And steamers sailing up and down.
+
+    And you can see on a clear day
+    All along Toronto Bay,
+    And you clearly see the haze
+    Where Niagara doth amaze.
+
+    And glance where Grimsby's gardens yield
+    Or view Beamsville's fruitful field,
+    Then this thought you can advance,
+    This is Canada's sunny France.
+
+    You see Niagara's ancient town[D]
+    Though it has lost us old renown,
+    And you have a splendid view
+    Of boats on old canal and new.
+
+[D] Niagara once the capital of Upper Canada and an important fortress
+at the mouth of the Niagara River.
+
+
+
+
+ST. THOMAS, 1884.
+
+At time of Oddfellows Grand Lodge meeting.
+
+
+    Oddfellows once they had to trudge
+    O'er rough stage road to the Grand Lodge,
+    But now they town of metal seek
+    And find it on the Kettle Creek.
+
+    For industry it here prevails
+    As it was built by the steel rails,
+    And here the wide expanded bridges
+    Do connect the distant ridges.
+
+    No more need to stay at home as
+    There's lots of railroads to St. Thomas,
+    You pluckily did boldly venture,
+    Now you are great railroad centre.
+
+    Your city now it hath high hopes
+    From its great railway workshops,
+    And higher yet it still will rise,
+    This seat of so much enterprise.
+
+    When young man wants a wedded mate
+    He seeks Alma girl graduate,
+    And he loves her Alma mater
+    For the sake of her charming daughter.
+
+
+
+
+GALT AND DUNLOP.
+
+John Galt was the manager of the Canada Company's lands, and he was a
+Scottish Novelist. Dunlop was at one time an eminent British Journalist,
+but he finally settled near Goderich. The town of Galt is named after
+John Galt.
+
+
+    John Galt and Doctor Dunlop witty
+    They located and planned the city
+    Of Guelph, and they cut the first tree down,
+    The stump was the centre of the town.
+
+    From thence the streets radiate like fan,
+    And they projected on this same plan
+    The towns of Stratford and Goderich,
+    The last it stands near broad Huron's beach,
+
+    Conspicuous on a bluff so grand,
+    'Neath which doth flow the clear Maitland,
+    Of glorious view you may partake,
+    Gazing on Huron's mighty lake.
+
+
+
+
+TILSONBURG.
+
+
+    After him who did the mills own,
+    This place was called in honor Tilson;
+    Bright gleaming like to a beaming star,
+    Is clear waters of the Otter.
+
+    And it doth form here a vast pond,
+    Which extends for miles beyond,
+    A fortune on town it will shower,
+    This prodigious water power.
+
+    No other spots to youth appear,
+    Like lovely little lakes round here,
+    And few small towns have fine roadway
+    Lined with brick blocks like your broadway.
+
+
+
+
+PORT STANLEY.
+
+
+    In winter time 'tis sad and dreary
+    For to gaze on stormy Erie,
+    But here in summer time this port
+    It is a fashionable resort,
+    For then it is always cheery
+    For to gaze upon Lake Erie.
+
+    Or on the steamer you can sail
+    All independent of the gale,
+    Or here the youth can ply the oar
+    And view the fast receding shore,
+    And be happy with his dearie
+    On the bosom of Lake Erie.
+
+    No one here need ever weary
+    On the borders of Lake Erie,
+    With quadrille parties at Stanley
+    And games and sports all so manly,
+    Or bathe in waves with friends near thee,
+    You fear no storms of Lake Erie.
+
+
+
+
+PORT BURWELL.
+
+The following lines were given at a concert when Port Burwell was a busy
+port and there had been a race on the ice the day before.
+
+
+    In winter time who here resort,
+    To pay a visit to your busy port,
+    They must be clad in fur well,
+    For it blows cold at Burwell;
+    But when you wish to trot your horse
+    You make Lake Erie your race course,
+    And we believe at every heat
+    All other horses you do beat.
+
+
+
+
+SKETCHES ON THE BANKS OF THE CANADIAN THAMES.
+
+    "The muse nae poet ever fand her
+    Till by himsel' he learned to wander
+    Adown some trotting burn's meander."
+--Burns.
+
+The valley of the Thames, we presume, includes Stratford on the north
+and Woodstock and Ingersoll on the south. The Avon, on whose banks
+Stratford is located, joins the Thames near St. Marys. The middle branch
+flows through Embro and Thamesford. The south and middle branches unite
+and flow through Dorchester and Westminster and blend with the northern
+branch at London, where it deviates to Elgin in the south.
+
+
+ENGLISH NAMES ON CANADIAN THAMES.
+
+    England has given us the names
+    To adorn Canadian Thames,
+    And charms to them she has lent
+    In Oxford, Middlesex and Kent,
+    She Essex kisseth in her mouth,
+    And Scottish names, one north, one south,
+    And London now it justly claims
+    'Tis capital of vale of Thames,
+    And her strong castellated tower
+    Doth on the river frowning lower,
+    And Chatham is the river's port,
+    There slaves for freedom did resort,
+    And they did industrious toil,
+    And now many own the soil,
+    Stratford now shall be our theme,
+    On Avon tributary stream,
+    And its clear waters it doth launch
+    Into the Thames northern branch,
+    Near that substantial stone town
+    St. Mary's with mills of renown,
+    Westward it winds past each town,
+    Growing broader as it flows down,
+    Onward it glides never weary,
+    Meandering so soft and cheery.
+    The sunbeam on the waters glance,
+    Skipping about in silvery dance,
+    From morn till eve the cattle feed
+    'Neath lofty elms along the mead.
+    And on its banks in warrior pride
+    The brave Tecumseh fought and died,
+    And it has now historic claims
+    The famous battle of the Thames.
+    Now soon the waters meet and pair
+    With the wavelets of St. Clair,
+    As maids when wed do lose their names,
+    No longer it is called the Thames.
+    Rejoicing on its way it smiles,
+    Kissing the shores of Thousand Isles,
+    Mingling with St. Lawrance motion,
+    It soon is blended with the ocean.
+
+
+LONDON FLOOD, JULY 11th, 1883.
+
+    From the long continuous rains
+    O'erflowing were the swamps and drains,
+    For each day had its heavy shower,
+    Torrents fell for many an hour;
+    At London where two branches join
+    It seem'd two furies did combine,
+    For to spread far both death and woe,
+    With their wild, raging overflow;
+    E'en houses did on waters float,
+    As though each had been built for boat,
+    And where was wealth and joy and bloom,
+    Soon naught but inmates of the tomb;
+    Flood o'erflowed both vale and ridges,
+    And swept railroads, dams and bridges,
+    A mother climbed in tree to save
+    Her infant from a watery grave,
+    But on the house you saw its blood
+    Where it was crushed 'gainst tree by flood;
+    Where cottages 'mong gardens stood
+    'Tis covered o'er with vile drift wood,
+    O'er flowers and bushes you may travel
+    For they are buried under gravel,
+    Or you may walk o'er barren sand,
+    The crops washed out and fertile land;
+    Two funerals we at once did see
+    Of one family who lost three;
+    No longer river's deep and wide
+    But gently flows to distant tide.
+
+
+DISASTER TO STEAMER VICTORIA AT LONDON.
+
+    At London Thames is a broad stream,
+    Which was the scene of a sad theme,
+    A fragile steamer there did play,
+    O'ercrowded on a Queen's Birthday,
+    While all on board was bright and gay,
+    But soon 'neath the cold waters lay,
+    Naught but forms of lifeless clay,
+    Which made, alas! sad month of May.
+
+
+LINES ON WOODSTOCK.
+
+    English Woodstock had a palace
+    Where the Queen in jealous malice
+    Slew romance's fairest flower,
+    Fair Rosamond in secret bower;
+    Our Woodstock pleasing county town,
+    This brings it both wealth and renown,
+    To your strong castle some are sent
+    To give them leisure to repent.
+    A charming vista you do view
+    Gazing on each street and avenue,
+    Mansions and lawn embowered 'mong trees
+    Where wealthy owners live at ease,
+    And through the air there sweetly floats
+    Harmonious Woodstock organ notes,
+    And men employment secure
+    In factory for furniture;
+    Old Oxford is a seat of knowledge,
+    Woodstock has a fine new college,
+    And farm implement work shops,
+    So farmers easy reap their crops;
+    The old court house is a disgrace,
+    Grand structure soon will take its place.
+
+
+INGERSOLL.
+
+Ex-Mayor Thomas Brown may be considered the father of the town, he
+projected the first roads and bridges.
+
+    The Thames and tributary rills,
+    Here they do drive numerous mills,
+    Enabling millers to compete
+    To pay high price for oats and wheat.
+    Here streams do drive many a wheel
+    For to grind both flour and oatmeal,
+    And town will extend its boundaries
+    With its enterprising foundries.
+    For fine pianos town is famed
+    And highest rank for them is claimed,
+    And brighter days for it yet dawns
+    With its grand mansions and fine lawns,
+    And it has now the title grand
+    The capital of dairyland.
+
+
+EMBRO.
+
+    O'er various counties of the north,
+    When cruel order did go forth,
+    For to destroy many a home,
+    So that the wild deer free might roam;
+    The men of Sutherland and Ross,
+    The broad Atlantic they did cross,
+    Each seeking for a fertile farm,
+    These rolling lands for them had charm;
+    They ne'er desired again to roam,
+    Each happy in his woodland home,
+    Where middle branch of Thames doth flow
+    They built the village of Embro,
+    And it the hill tops now doth crown
+    Like its grand namesake Edina Town,
+    And good flour mills you here do find
+    And oats also they here do grind.
+
+
+BEACHVILLE.
+
+    Of Beachville, village of the plain,
+    We now will sing a short refrain,
+    For here the Thames doth pleasant flow,
+    And charm to landscape doth bestow;
+    Though river here it is not deep,
+    Yet banks slope graceful up the steep,
+    And from the summit of the hills
+    You look down on the famed lime kilns,
+    And 'tis full worthy poet's rhyme
+    The whiteness of your pure white lime,
+    Your glory never shall be gone
+    While you have quarries of this stone,
+    In influence you yet will wax
+    With mills for flour and also flax.
+
+
+STRATFORD.
+
+    Our Canadian county Perth,
+    Commemorates great bard of earth,
+    Stratford and Avon both are here,
+    And they enshrine the name Shakespeare.
+
+    For here in Stratford every ward
+    Is named from dramas of great bard,
+    Here you may roam o'er Romeo,
+    Or glance on Juliet bestow.
+
+    And it is a railway centre,
+    Many a train doth here enter,
+    And railroad shops do men employ,
+    And gives them work and wealth and joy.
+
+
+LINES ON THAMESFORD.
+
+    The middle branch of Thames doth flow
+    O'er pebble bed and it doth glow
+    And sparkle like silver in the sun,
+    As it through pasture lands doth run.
+
+    In dam is ample water stored,
+    To drive flour mills in Thamesford,
+    Besides the power of the stream,
+    Saw mills and flax are drove by steam.
+
+    Our mind it doth with pleasure fill,
+    To see fine brick church on each hill,
+    And that substantial one of stone
+    Owned by congregation of St. John.
+
+
+
+
+THE VALE OF THAMES.
+
+
+    In vale of Thames oft' times are seen
+    The cattle graze 'mong sweetest green,
+    Or there contented with their fate
+    The gentle cows do ruminate.
+
+    And enjoy a double pleasure
+    In re-chewing hidden treasure,
+    The cow is a kindly creature,
+    Kind and pleasant in each feature.
+
+    About her is a homely charm,
+    And her the dog should not alarm,
+    But let all safe guard her from harm,
+    The gentlest creature on the farm.
+
+
+
+
+DAIRY AND CHEESE ODES.
+
+
+As cheese making first began in this county and it has already become
+the chief industry of many counties, it is no insignificant theme. About
+the middle of this century Canada was a great importer of cheese, and
+now cheese is the principal article of export from the Province of
+Ontario, and this Province will soon export no less than ten millions of
+dollars worth of cheese per annum. Mr. Ranney was doing a thriving
+business in the dairy line, manufacturing cheese after the century was
+half gone on the dairy plan from the products of his own cows, and one
+decade later Mr. Farrington introduced the factory system. Both of these
+gentlemen have departed this life but Canada is enjoying the fruits of
+their labors, and about eight hundred cheese factories are in operation
+in this Province of Ontario.
+
+
+RANNEY, 1856, DAIRY SYSTEM.
+
+    Ranney began with just two cows,
+    Which he in winter fed on browse,
+    And now he hath got mighty herds
+    Numerous as flock of birds,
+    May he long live our hearts to cheer
+    This great and useful pioneer.
+
+
+FARRINGTON, 1866, FACTORY SYSTEM.
+
+    The farmers they now all make rich
+    Since Farrington went to Norwich,
+    And the system first there began
+    Of making cheese on factory plan;
+    He came from Herkimer county,
+    To Canada he was a bounty;
+    Norwich village moved but slow,
+    Till railways made it quickly grow,
+    And industries here now take root,
+    The township's famous for its fruit.
+
+Among the earliest champions of the Factory System of making cheese were
+Messrs. Chadwick, Casswell and Ballantyne. The North Oxford Company were
+awarded the highest honor at the Centennial Exhibition. Messrs. J. L.
+Grant & Co. have a fine large cold storage warehouse on the G.T.R., and
+the C.P.R. have erected one on their line, which is leased by Mr. Riley.
+Ingersoll being the great dairy centre of Ontario it was deemed
+requisite to have those facilities for preserving the cheese in the hot
+season. The following is a list of the most prominent cheese factories
+in this district and the salesmen thereof:
+
+
+  Dereham and West Oxford--W. Nancekivell.
+  Harris Street--T. R. Mayberry.
+  W. Oxford--G. Galloway.
+  N. Oxford--D. J. Dundass.
+  Maple Leaf--Thomas Caddy.
+  W. Zorra--John Blair.
+  Burnside--H. George.
+  Gore--H. C. Hopkins.
+  Salford--Foster & Gregg.
+  Mt. Elgin--W. Tripp.
+  Brownsville--Hopkins & Fulton.
+  Prouse's--T. Prouse.
+  Kintore--G. Alderson.
+  Harrietsville--R. Facey.
+  East Nissouri--W. J. Walker.
+  Cold Springs--H. Matheson.
+  Dorchester--L. D. Monk.
+  Lawson--N. Wilford.
+  Wilkinson--J. H. Wilkinson.
+  Dereham and Norwich Union--W. Fewster.
+  Verschoyle--James Hunter.
+  Avon and Firby--W. Kirkly.
+  Thamesford--F. Patterson.
+  Lyons--James Mitchell.
+  Lakeside--T. Marshall.
+  Belmont--John Evans.
+  Cherry Hill--H. Webster.
+
+
+FATHER RANNEY, THE CHEESE PIONEER.
+
+This is our earliest cheese ode. The Ingersoll factory has been removed
+to Thamesford.
+
+    When Father Ranney left the States,
+    In Canada to try the fates,
+    He settled down in Dereham,
+    Then no dairyman lived near him;
+    He was the first there to squeeze
+    His cows' milk into good cheese,
+    And at each Provincial show
+    His famed cheese was all the go.
+
+    Then long life to Father Ranney
+    May he wealth and honour gain aye.
+
+    He always took the first prize
+    Both for quality and size,
+    But many of his neighbors
+    Now profit by his labors,
+    And the ladies dress in silk
+    From the proceeds of the milk,
+    But those who buy their butter,
+    How dear it is, they mutter.
+
+    Then long life to Father Ranney,
+    May he his health retain aye.
+
+    The farmers can not be beat,
+    They have both cheese and their wheat,
+    Though now their greatest care is
+    For to watch o'er their dairies,
+    They carefully fill their mows
+    With provender for their cows,
+    And they thus enrich the soil
+    With much profit for their toil.
+
+    We will sing this refrain aye,
+    Long life to Father Ranney.
+
+    The motto "union is strength"
+    Is carried out at length,
+    In the most compact array
+    At every cheese factory,
+    You'll see without going far as
+    There is one kept by Harris,
+    The factory of Ingersoll,
+    Just out at the first toll.
+
+    May he never suffer pain aye,
+    The Father of cheesemen Ranney.
+
+    Or you may go all the way
+    To see one kept by Galloway,
+    And out in the Norwiches
+    Dairymen are making riches,
+    And honor has been won
+    By Harvey Farrington,
+    The same path is trodden
+    By folks about Culloden.
+
+    May his strength never wane aye,
+    The great dairyman Ranney.
+
+    And of late we saw some
+    Very good cheese from Lawson,
+    All around Mt. Elgin
+    Dairymen have well done,
+    And out in East Nissouri
+    They make some scores a day,
+    From Jarvis and Elliott
+    Some good cheese are bought.
+
+    And we will all remain aye,
+    Indebted to Father Ranney.
+
+    Now we close this glorious theme,
+    This song of curds and rich cream,
+    You can buy your hoops and screws,
+    And all supplies for dairy use,
+    Milk cans and vats, all things like these,
+    In Ingersoll great mart for cheese,
+    Here buyers all do congregate
+    And pay for cheese the highest rate.
+
+    So we call on you again aye,
+    To honor Father Ranney.
+
+
+ODE ON THE MAMMOTH CHEESE.
+
+Weight over seven thousand pounds.
+
+    We have seen thee, queen of cheese,
+    Lying quietly at your ease,
+    Gently fanned by evening breeze,
+    Thy fair form no flies dare seize.
+
+    All gaily dressed soon you'll go
+    To the great Provincial show,
+    To be admired by many a beau
+    In the city of Toronto.
+
+    Cows numerous as a swarm of bees,
+    Or as the leaves upon the trees,
+    It did require to make thee please,
+    And stand unrivalled, queen of cheese.
+
+    May you not receive a scar as
+    We have heard that Mr. Harris
+    Intends to send you off as far as
+    The great world's show at Paris.
+
+    Of the youth beware of these,
+    For some of them might rudely squeeze
+    And bite your cheek, then songs or glees
+    We could not sing, oh! queen of cheese.
+
+    We'rt thou suspended from balloon,
+    You'd cast a shade even at noon,
+    Folks would think it was the moon
+    About to fall and crush them soon.
+
+
+LINES READ AT A DAIRYMEN'S SUPPER.
+
+    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 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.
+
+
+HINTS TO CHEESE MAKERS.
+
+    All those who quality do prize
+    Must study color, taste and size,
+    And keep their dishes clean and sweet,
+    And all things round their factories neat,
+    For dairymen insist that these
+    Are all important points in cheese.
+
+    Grant has here a famous work
+    Devoted to the cure of pork,
+    For dairymen find it doth pay
+    To fatten pigs upon the whey,
+    For there is money raising grease
+    As well as in the making cheese.
+
+
+ENSILAGE.
+
+    The farmers now should all adorn
+    A few fields with sweet southern corn,
+    It is luscious, thick and tall,
+    The beauty of the fields in fall.
+
+    For it doth make best ensilage,
+    For those in dairying engage,
+    It makes the milk in streams to flow,
+    Where dairymen have a good silo.
+
+    The cow is a happy rover
+    O'er the fields of blooming clover,
+    Of it she is a fond lover,
+    And it makes milk pails run over.
+
+
+FERTILE LANDS AND MAMMOTH CHEESE.
+
+    In barren district you may meet
+    Small fertile spot doth grow fine wheat,
+    There you may find the choicest fruits,
+    And great, round, smooth and solid roots.
+
+    But in conditions such as these
+    You cannot make a mammoth cheese,
+    Which will weigh eight thousand pounds,
+    But where large fertile farms abounds.
+
+    Big cheese is synonymous name,
+    With fertile district of the Thame,
+    Here dairy system's understood,
+    And they are made both large and good.
+
+
+LINES READ AT A DAIRYMAIDS' SOCIAL, 1887.
+
+Where the young lady waiters were dressed as dairymaids.
+
+    Throughout the world they do extol
+    The fame of our town Ingersoll,
+    The capital of dairyland,
+    To-night it seems like fairy land,
+    The youth and beauty here arrayed,
+    So sweet and neat each dairymaid.
+
+    And worthy of a poet's theme,
+    Sweet and smooth flows milk and cream,
+    For song or glee what is fitter
+    In this land of cheese and butter,
+    But no young man should be afraid
+    To court a pretty dairymaid.
+
+    And far abroad he should not roam
+    But find a charmer here at home,
+    Find some one now your heart to cheer,
+    Thus celebrate the jubilee year,
+    Remember long this ladies' aid
+    And each bewitching dairymaid.
+
+
+Lines Read at a Parsonage Opening at the Village where Ranney had once
+flourished, 1883.
+
+    Some do boast of their pedigrees,
+    But Salford's parent of the cheese,
+    Ranney, industrious and wise,
+    Here started this great enterprise.
+
+    He did work on the dairy plan,
+    While Farrington was factoryman,
+    Both of these men it well did please
+    To hear of progress making cheese.
+
+    The farmers are in cheerful mood,
+    For harvest all it has been good,
+    And all the grain was sown this spring
+    An abundant yield will bring.
+
+    And you can scarcely stow away
+    The yield of barley, oats and hay,
+    Such pasture it is seldom seen,
+    E'en now it is so fresh and green.
+
+    This beauteous colour nature decks,
+    While it insures you large milk cheques,
+    And certes you've much cause to praise,
+    For hogs and cattle that you raise.
+
+
+OXFORD CHEESE ODE.
+
+    The ancient poets ne'er did dream
+    That Canada was land of cream,
+    They ne'er imagined it could flow
+    In this cold land of ice and snow,
+    Where everything did solid freeze,
+    They ne'er hoped or looked for cheese.
+
+    A few years since our Oxford farms
+    Were nearly robbed of all their charms,
+    O'er cropped the weary land grew poor
+    And nearly barren as a moor,
+    But now their owners live at ease
+    Rejoicing in their crop of cheese.
+
+    And since they justly treat the soil,
+    Are well rewarded for their toil,
+    The land enriched by goodly cows
+    Yields plenty now to fill their mows,
+    Both wheat and barley, oats and peas,
+    But still their greatest boast is cheese.
+
+    And you must careful fill your mows
+    With good provender for your cows,
+    And in the winter keep them warm,
+    Protect them safe all time from harm,
+    For cows do dearly love their ease,
+    Which doth insure best grade of cheese.
+
+    To us it is a glorious theme
+    To sing of milk and curds and cream,
+    Were it collected it could float
+    On its bosom, small steam boat,
+    Cows numerous as swarm of bees
+    Are milked in Oxford to make cheese.
+
+    To prove the wealth that here abounds,
+    One cheese weighed eight thousand pounds,
+    Had it been hung in air at noon
+    Folks would have thought it was the moon,
+    It sailed with triumph o'er the seas,
+    'Twas hailed with welcome, queen of cheese.
+
+
+WINDMILLS AND STONE STABLES.
+
+    Cows suffered in the days of old
+    For want of water and from cold,
+    Now of good water they have fill
+    For it is pumped by the windmill.
+
+    No matter how well cows were fed
+    They suffered cold in their board shed,
+    But good stone walls now them enfold,
+    And they are warm and safe from cold.
+
+    Now they do enjoy their fodder,
+    And repay with their full udder,
+    If bran slops you on cow bestow
+    Of milk it will increase the flow.
+
+    And in your efforts do not halt
+    But let them daily lick the salt,
+    And never let the dogs them chase,
+    But let them walk at their quiet pace.
+
+
+DAIRY ODES.
+
+    The sweet milkmaid of early days
+    Her own household she ably sways,
+    And her daughters now milk the cows,
+    And her sons they now guide the plows.
+
+    These pleasing changes on a farm
+    Doth give to rural life a charm,
+    Let occupation none upbraid,
+    But honor plowman and milkmaid.
+
+    For Burns with glory did endow
+    And wove a garland round the plow,
+    The source from which all wealth doth spring
+    And happiness to all doth bring.
+
+    Our muse it doth refuse to sing
+    Of cheese made early in the spring,
+    When cows give milk from spring fodder
+    You cannot make a good cheddar.
+
+    The quality is often vile
+    Of cheese that is made in April,
+    Therefore we think for that reason
+    You should make later in the season.
+
+    Cheese making now you should delay
+    Until about the first of May.
+    Then cows do feed on grassy field
+    And rich milk they abundant yield.
+
+    Ontario cannot compete
+    With the Northwest in raising wheat,
+    For cheaper there they it can grow
+    So price in future may be low.
+
+    Though this a hardship it may seem,
+    Rejoice that you have got the cream,
+    In this land of milk and honey,
+    Where dairy farmers do make money.
+
+    Utensils must be clean and sweet,
+    So cheese with first class can compete,
+    And daily polish up milk pans,
+    Take pains with vats and with milk cans.
+
+    And it is important matter
+    To allow no stagnant water,
+    But water from pure well or stream
+    The cow must drink to give pure cream.
+
+    Canadian breeds 'tis best to pair
+    With breeds from the shire of Ayr,
+    They thrive on our Canadian feed
+    And are for milking splendid breed.
+
+    Though 'gainst spring cheese some do mutter,
+    Yet spring milk also makes bad butter,
+    Then there doth arise the query
+    How utilize it in the dairy:
+
+    The milk it floats in great spring flood
+    Though it is not so rich and good,
+    Let us be thankful for this stream
+    Of milk and also curds and cream.
+
+    All dairymen their highest aims
+    Should be to make the vale of Thames,
+    Where milk doth so abundant flow,
+    Dairyland of Ontario.
+
+
+CHEESE CURD FOR BAIT.
+
+The following adventure was participated in by Mr. J. Podmore and Mr. W.
+D. Grant at Matheson's Cold Spring Cheese Factory in Zorra, 1888.
+
+    Cheese buyers in hours of leisure
+    Combine business with pleasure,
+    And when they wish to go abroad
+    They take their gun and fishing rod.
+
+    This tale is true we pledge our word,
+    They baited hook with a piece of curd,
+    And let the rod hang from the boat,
+    While curd and hook on pond did float.
+
+    And then they start for sport and fun,
+    To try their luck with the shot gun,
+    And quick they raised from their cover,
+    Then brought low eight brace of plover.
+
+    Now to the pond they do return,
+    But loss of rod they have to mourn,
+    They see it rushing through the water,
+    And wonder what can be the matter.
+
+    But the courage of young Grant,
+    It did not for a moment daunt,
+    Though rod it now is far beyond,
+    He plunged into deep, cold spring pond.
+
+    And seized his rod and then drew out
+    A beauteous seven pound trout,
+    Which had grown from the seed
+    From spawn of California breed.
+
+    And Californian in its greed,
+    On the sweet curd wished to feed;
+    But, alas, for it's sad fate,
+    It swallowed hook along with bait.
+
+
+
+
+CANADIAN SKETCHES.
+
+
+THANKSGIVING ODE, NOVEMBER 15TH, 1888.
+
+
+    September came and with it frost
+    The season's pasture it seemed lost,
+    And the wondrous yield of corn
+    Of its green beauty it was shorn.
+
+    Frost it came like early robber,
+    But gentle rains came in October,
+    Which were absorbed by grateful soil;
+    With green once more the pastures smile.
+
+    And cows again are happy seen
+    Enjoying of the pastures green,
+    And flow of milk again they yield
+    From the sweet feed of grassy field.
+
+    And we have now a fine November,
+    Warmer far than in September;
+    The apple, which is queen of fruits,
+    Was a good crop and so is roots.
+
+    The rains they did replenish springs,
+    And it gratitude to each heart brings,
+    When we reflect on bounteous season,
+    For grateful feelings all have reason.
+
+
+AGRICULTURAL IMPLEMENTS.
+
+    Poor laborers they did sad bewail,
+    When the machine displaced the flail,
+    There's little work now with the hoes.
+    Since cultivators weed the rows.
+
+    Labor it became more fickle,
+    When the scythe took place of sickle,
+    Labor still it did sink lower,
+    By introduction of mower.
+
+    And the work was done much cheaper
+    When they added on the reaper,
+    Another machine to it they join,
+    Mower, reaper, binder, all combine.
+
+    Machines now load and stow away,
+    Both the barley and the hay,
+    And the farmers do get richer
+    With the loader and the pitcher.
+
+    There's very few men now hand sows,
+    No more broad cast the grain it grows,
+    They sow and rake by the machine,
+    Hand labor is 'mong the things have been.
+
+    Armed with scythes the old war chariot,
+    Cut men down in the fierce war riot,
+    Round farmers' chariot fall the slain,
+    But 'tis the sheaves of golden grain.
+
+
+WHEN TO SELL GRAIN AND FARM PRODUCE.
+
+    Grain it should be sold in the fall
+    Even if the price it should be small,
+    For if you keep it till the spring
+    Sometimes a less price it doth bring.
+
+    For grain with whole world doth compete,
+    You cannot raise the price of wheat,
+    Then at once you should embark it
+    On its way to world's market.
+
+    We hope our views you don't despise,
+    For grain doth shrink in weight and size,
+    If you sell wheat you can get gold,
+    Retain it, damp may make it mould.
+
+    Remember too that of your wheat
+    The rats of it will fondly eat,
+    Sell it and money then invest,
+    And you can get good interest.
+
+    The same remarks apply to cheese,
+    It shrinks and frosts make it to freeze,
+    Then careful man you have to hire
+    At great expense to keep up fire.
+
+    If you your produce quick do move,
+    The business soon it will improve,
+    And then mankind will you bless
+    For alleviating their distress.
+
+    And it pays best to sell each pig,
+    Plump and young, not old, fat and big,
+    Young and tender now's the vogue
+    Either in cattle or in hog.
+
+
+FOUR ACRE FARM.
+
+    This is a tale, but it is truth,
+    Of maiden lady named Ruth,
+    She owned a small four acre farm,
+    Which possessed some rural charm.
+
+    This maiden she was past her youth,
+    But none e're fell in love with Ruth,
+    Though you must not infer from thence
+    That she possessed not grace nor sense.
+
+    She was handsome in her day,
+    But beauty quickly fades away,
+    Good vegetables and fine roots
+    She growed and choicest kind of fruits.
+
+    And a first-class good milch cow
+    She kept, and a fine breeding sow,
+    Her butter high price did command,
+    Cow fed on best of pasture land.
+
+    On it was pond where swam her geese,
+    From small flock of sheep she sheared fleece,
+    And thus she passed year after year,
+    Her cares they kept her in good cheer.
+
+    Each year she raised large chicken brood,
+    And for them she grew lots of food,
+    In winter time it was her rule
+    To knit and spin up her own wool.
+
+    And thus her uneventful life
+    Doth pass without jar or strife,
+    'Tis seldom she e're feels alarm,
+    But quietly tills her little farm.
+
+    To plow her little fields of course
+    She does require to drive her horse,
+    This little pony looks quite smart
+    Drawing old maid in little cart.
+
+
+HARVEST HOME FESTIVAL.
+
+    In summer time it doth seem good
+    To seek the shade of the green wood,
+    For it doth banish all our care
+    When we gaze on scene so fair.
+
+    And birds do here in branches sing
+    So merrily in early spring,
+    And lovingly they here do pair
+    Their mutual joys together share.
+
+    Here nature's charming, never rude,
+    Inspiring all with happy mood,
+    Tables had choice fruits of season,
+    And we too had feast of reason.
+
+    To dinner table all did march
+    Through evergreen triumphal arch,
+    On top the Union Jack it floats,
+    On each side sheaves of wheat and oats.
+
+    Great pumpkins and big ears of corn,
+    They do this rural arch adorn,
+    We are reminded now 'tis fall,
+    And boys enjoy game of baseball.
+
+    With joy at night each one did gaze
+    At the mighty bonfire's blaze,
+    The tree leaves shone like silver bright,
+    The lanterns too were pleasing sight.
+
+
+
+
+CORNER STONE LAYING.
+
+The following lines were read at the festival after the stone had been
+laid by Grand Master Col. Moffat, of a church on the Culloden road, with
+Masonic honors.
+
+
+    In this quiet spot this day of June,
+    Which will not be forgotten soon,
+    For when your little church on hill
+    You overflowingly did fill,
+    You then resolved there should arise
+    Church worthy of your enterprise,
+    You've laid foundation broad and deep,
+    And showers of blessings may you reap.
+
+    Craft of King Hiram and Saint John
+    Have come to lay the corner stone,
+    At the call of our Grand Master
+    Who was invited by your pastor,
+    With silver trowel all so fair
+    He laid foundation on the square,
+    May you be blessed with Christian love,
+    And we all meet in Lodge above.
+
+
+LINES ON METHODIST UNION, SEPTEMBER, 1883.
+
+    A pleasing sight to-day we see,
+    Four churches joined in harmony,
+    There difference was but trivial,
+    But strove each other to outrival.
+    In friendship now they do unite,
+    And Satan only they do fight,
+    And they'll plant churches in North West,
+    Where they can serve the Lord the best.
+
+
+
+
+CREDIT VALLEY TRIP.
+
+The Credit Valley Railway Company having placed a car at the service of
+the council we were kindly invited to accompany them to Toronto.
+
+
+    Whene'er we take a tour abroad
+    We love to travel o'er new road,
+    Where scenery to us is new
+    And landscape pleasing to the view,
+    When invited for to rally
+    And take a trip on Credit Valley,
+    We resolved for to afford
+    A day with Council and School Board,
+    For to view the rural charms
+    Of hills and dales and fertile farms,
+    With joy we saw the sunbeams gleam
+    On Grand River beauteous stream,
+    And those perpendicular walls
+    Of rock, like old baronial halls,
+    We saw the great lake ebb and flow,
+    And queen city of Ontario,
+    While some enjoyed the genial smile
+    Of Hanlon on his lake girt isle,
+    Returning home each one exclaims
+    "Happiest spot is banks of Thames."
+
+
+
+
+EAGLE AND SALMON.
+
+
+    Wilmot of fish culutre fame,
+    To this tale he lends his name,
+    A pair of eagles built their nest
+    On a lofty pine tree's crest.
+
+    And therein they regular rear
+    A brood of young year after year,
+    One day he saw one leave its nest,
+    When for food it was in quest.
+
+    It did wing its flight on high,
+    And then on water cast its eye,
+    When it quickly did discover
+    A great salmon in the river.
+
+    Like lightning flash down it doth sweep
+    And its talons it buries deep,
+    In salmon of enormous size
+    He trys to rise in air with prize.
+
+    But all in vain he quickly found
+    He could not carry thirty pound,
+    And had bit more than he could chew
+    For in the air no more he flew.
+
+    Wilmot he did gaze with wonder
+    At the spot where he went under,
+    Resolved to know what was the matter
+    He poled his boat o'er the water.
+
+    And he looked down and there he found
+    That the eagle it was drowned,
+    And its wings in part outspread,
+    But alas it was quite dead.
+
+    With grappling hook he drew him out,
+    But attached to him was monster trout,
+    Eagle could not extract his claws,
+    And this the death of both did cause.
+
+
+
+
+CAPTAIN'S ADVENTURE.
+
+
+    Three years ago my vessel lay
+    In a port of Hudson Bay,
+    I started off for the trading post,
+    But on the way back I then got lost.
+
+    And the thought soon gave me the blues,
+    Trudging along on my snow shoes,
+    Over the wastes of drifting snow,
+    While the wind it did fiercely blow.
+
+    I feared that I would be froze hard,
+    For it was a fearful blizzard,
+    I was growing faint and weary,
+    Not the slightest hopes to cheer me.
+
+    Without compass to bearing,
+    My yells were beyond crews' hearing,
+    But at last to my loud halloo
+    There came a mournful ho, ho.
+
+    From creature white I thought 'twas ghost,
+    And that I was forever lost,
+    I heard horrid creature flutter,
+    As it those strange sounds did utter.
+
+    At last I found that all this howl
+    Was from a noble large white owl,
+    And a happy apparition,
+    So runs the Indian tradition.
+
+    It guides the lost one in distress
+    And leads him out of wilderness,
+    This strange bird I soon follow,
+    And it still kept up its halloo.
+
+    It seem'd that it cried to cheer me,
+    I thought the ship was now near me,
+    As I walked o'er the banks of snow
+    I kept up a feeble halloo.
+
+    And but a little ways beyond
+    From my own crew I got respond,
+    With joy I was received by crew,
+    So happy all at my rescue.
+
+    It must be that some gentle soul
+    Did then inhabit that strange fowl,
+    But O to me 'twas wondrous fair,
+    For it thus saved me from despair.
+
+    The man's my foe who now doth growl
+    At the strange sounds made by the owl,
+    The sailors all they took delight
+    To feed this bird so pure and white.
+
+    But soon the poor bird was o'erfed,
+    Early one morn we found it dead,
+    And my breast it heaved with sighs,
+    And the tears poured from mine eyes.
+
+    But precious relic in glass case
+    I oft gaze on its kindly face,
+    And grateful memories it brings,
+    When I behold its glorious wings.
+
+    To stuff such birds I knew the art
+    On it I worked with my whole heart,
+    To preserve each grace and feature
+    Full of charms to me is creature.
+
+
+
+
+INDIAN ROMANCE.
+
+
+    We know a hill is smooth and round,
+    Where Indian relics may be found,
+    This hill it hath a history,
+    Though enveloped in mystery.
+
+    All the youth do fondly glory
+    For to read an Indian story,
+    This hill was ancient camping ground,
+    In creek near by did trout abound.
+
+    And from hill top they caught a gleam
+    Of the river's broader stream,
+    They came in their birch bark canoes
+    Into this place of rendezvous.
+
+    When States did Canada invade,
+    Great Indian host was here arrayed,
+    Here they rallied from near and far,
+    In eighteen hundred and twelve war.
+
+    Chief big Wolfe led them on to war,
+    And bade farewell to morning star,
+    He wedded her one year before,
+    And her he fondly did adore.
+
+    To him she never seemed so sweet,
+    Her dress had beads worked o'er so neat,
+    And her toilet to complete,
+    Grand moccasins upon her feet.
+
+    Tribe marches and they boldly fight,
+    Longside of Brock on Queenstown height,
+    With glory they do return crowned,
+    Into the hill so smooth and round.
+
+    Here big Wolfe drank much fire water,
+    And it led to his own slaughter,
+    His death alas did blast and mar,
+    And dimmed the light of morning star.
+
+
+
+
+CANADIAN HUNTER.
+
+
+    Of Kentucky's great hunter bold
+    Old Daniel Boone oft tales are told,
+    Of wild beasts he had no fear,
+    But dangers loved that pioneer.
+
+    Canada has hunters many,
+    Yet perhaps there is not any
+    For skill and boldness can compare
+    With our own Daniel Hebner.
+
+    In youth he was both tall and strong,
+    And supple as a willow thong,
+    He never fled from savage bear,
+    Though bruin on hind legs would rear.
+
+    In hunting mink, or fox or coon,
+    He was a second Daniel Boone,
+    His rifle oft brought down the deer,
+    Which to his table brought good cheer.
+
+    But through his life his highest aim
+    Was to kill the savage game,
+    To track the wild cat to its lair
+    And see its eyes so fiercely glare.
+
+    But he oft longs for a cut ham,
+    Sweet as from bear near to Putnam,
+    For he waged his fiercest war
+    In big swamp of Dorchester.
+
+    Now in the winter Dan he rides
+    Warm 'mong his bear and coon skin hides,
+    He lets the younger men now snare
+    The beaver, muskrat and otter.
+
+
+
+
+FIGHT WITH A BEAR IN THE NORTHWEST.
+
+
+    Two youths employed at the fur fort
+    Resolved to have half day of sport,
+    From Jasper House, in the far north,
+    For game they joyous issued forth,
+    The factor of the Hudson Bay
+    Granted them a few hours play,
+    And it was in cold winter time
+    When thick on lake was glassy rime,
+    But beneath, o'er all their route,
+    They saw below big speckled trout,
+    With hatchet ice they did clear,
+    And the beauteous trout did spear.
+
+    Soon bear they saw and youths did skate,
+    Resolved for to seal his fate,
+    A pistol shot made bruin roar,
+    And from him trickled drops of gore,
+    They round him skate and fresh blood drew,
+    When they at him the hatchet threw;
+    He first chased one and then the other,
+    For men on skates did him bother,
+    But the bold Scottish lad McBeth
+    Alas he nearly met his death,
+    When he so boldly did press near
+    To probe with the sharp fish spear.
+
+    They knew their game was no trifle,
+    So they secured a trusty rifle,
+    Returning he had fled to wood,
+    But they traced him with his blood,
+    They saw the elder bushes sway
+    While he did force through them his way,
+    They skated swiftly o'er the ice
+    And were near brushwood in a trice,
+    Full soon the savage beast is slain
+    With rifle bullet in his brain,
+    And now these hunters do take pride
+    In skin as large as Buffalo hide.
+
+
+
+
+ORIGIN OF THE TOBOGGAN.
+
+
+    I am a hunter by profession,
+    And when I make this confession,
+    Of what I saw with mine own eyes,
+    It may cause you some surprise.
+
+    But we at once now you do warn,
+    That this is not a made up yarn,
+    It happened in the interior,
+    Far north of Lake Superior.
+
+    When up the hill setting my traps,
+    I heard on trees peculiar raps,
+    It made me then attentive hark,
+    And then I heard pulling off the bark.
+
+    It was a bright and pleasant day,
+    The distance was three miles away,
+    And it caused me but slight alarm,
+    When they around bark placed each arm.
+
+    And threw the bark o'er their shoulder,
+    I being a distant beholder
+    Knew not what end they had in view,
+    But I must own my wonder grew.
+
+    When I saw those men were warm dressed
+    With good fur robe each one was blessed,
+    In single file they marched up hill
+    With strangest thoughts my mind did fill.
+
+    When each man in his robe began
+    With tough bark to make toboggan,
+    And quick as lightning down they slide,
+    It seemed to me a dangerous ride.
+
+    The spot was covered o'er with hairs,
+    And it seem'd mixed with blood of bears,
+    And my two dogs Bull and Daisy,
+    At sight and scent of it went crazy.
+
+    Could none of these been a true man,
+    Or was I gross deceived by bruin,
+    It was a long and glassy slide,
+    Reached far up the mountain side.
+
+    They had been first enjoying the fun
+    Of sliding down on their bare skin,
+    Until their hide was getting worn,
+    And their flesh was somewhat torn.
+
+    So Bear invented Toboggan,
+    Which is a blessing to young man,
+    And the fair maiden by his side,
+    For both enjoy the pleasant ride.
+
+
+
+
+BEAR AND FALLS.
+
+
+    Strange incidents do happen ever
+    On the famed Niagara river,
+    This thought to mind it now recalls
+    Event three miles above the falls.
+
+    Thrilling ventures there abound,
+    A bear which weighed eight hundred pounds,
+    Hunters they do him discover
+    As he was swimming down the river.
+
+    They felt he would be glorious prize
+    This grand fat bear of mighty size,
+    Three men they jump'd into canoe,
+    A skilful and determined crew.
+
+    Soon alongside of him they row,
+    But kindly feelings he doth show,
+    Quick he scrambled o'er the boat side
+    For to enjoy a good boat ride.
+
+    And as o'er the side he straddles
+    They hit him on head with paddles,
+    But all in vain, so two of crew
+    A short time bade the bear adieu.
+
+    And soon they swiftly swam to shore,
+    But current down the river bore
+    Man, bear and boat, the sound appals
+    Of roaring mighty water falls.
+
+    But vigorous now he plys the oar,
+    In hopes to safely reach the shore,
+    But this made bear to grin and growl
+    And wear on brow a horrid scowl.
+
+    So poor man sore against his will
+    Finds that in boat he must keep still,
+    Or else be hugged to death by bear,
+    While sound of falls becomes more near.
+
+    But his two friends so brave and true
+    Row quick 'longside in a canoe,
+    And fire in bruin leaden balls,
+    Thus saving friend from bear and falls.
+
+
+
+
+BROKEN RAFT ADVENTURE.
+
+
+    A man on Nova Scotian Bay
+    On broken raft was borne away,
+    Right out on the open sea
+    Where the storm did blow so free,
+    No shelter from the wind or wave
+    He thought the gulf would be his grave,
+    He had no food life to sustain,
+    He laid him down there to remain,
+    What happened he did know no more,
+    But old man on Prince Edward's shore
+    Saw raft drifting near his shed
+    And thought the poor man was quite dead,
+    He called for help and soon they bore
+    His lifeless body to the shore,
+    But old man he did them desire
+    To place the body near the fire,
+    And wrap it up in blankets warm,
+    Which did act like to a charm,
+    And soon the breath it did return,
+    With gratitude his heart did burn,
+    To think he was again restored
+    Unto his friends whom he adored.
+
+
+
+
+FIGHT OF A BUFFALO WITH WOLVES.
+
+
+    A buffalo, lord of the plain,
+    With massive neck and mighty mane,
+    While from his herd he slowly strays,
+    He on green herbage calm doth graze,
+    And when at last he lifts his eyes
+    A savage wolf he soon espies,
+    But scarcely deigns to turn his head
+    For it inspires him with no dread,
+    He knows the wolf is treacherous foe
+    But feels he soon could lay him low,
+    A moment more and there's a pair
+    Whose savage eyes do on him glare,
+    But with contempt them both he scorns
+    Unworthy of his powerful horns;
+    Their numbers soon do multiply
+    But the whole pack he doth defy,
+    He could bound quickly o'er the plain
+    And his own herd could soon regain;
+    His foes they now are full a score
+    With lolling tongues pant for his gore,
+    He hears their teeth all loudly gnash
+    So eager his big bones to crash,
+    On every side they him infest,
+    The north, the south, the east, the west
+    Fierce rage doth now gleam from his eye,
+    Resolved to conquer or to die,
+    'Round him they yelp and howl and growl,
+    He glares on them with angry scowl,
+    They circle closer him around,
+    He roars and springs with mighty bound,
+    And of his powers gives ample proof,
+    Felling them with horn and hoof,
+    Though some lay dead upon the plain,
+    Yet their attack was not in vain,
+    For they have tasted of his blood,
+    Resolved it soon shall pour a flood,
+    He feels that they have torn his hide
+    And streams gush from each limb and side,
+    He rushes on them in despair
+    And tosses them full high in air,
+    But others rush on him and pull
+    Down to the earth that glorious bull;
+    On the flesh of this noble beast
+    Their bloody jaws they soon do feast,
+    Full worthy of a better fate
+    Far from his herd and his dear mate,
+    Who now do look for him in vain
+    His bones do whiten now the plain.
+
+
+
+
+BEAR HUNT.
+
+
+    Two youths came over from York state,
+    Bill Brown and Tom Dawes his mate,
+    For many months they were wishing
+    The sport of hunting and of fishing.
+
+    They rowed along the lake in punt,
+    When tired of fishing they would hunt,
+    At river's mouth they caught fine trout,
+    In woods close by they saw bear's snout.
+
+    In front of her play little chubs,
+    Fat and slick her darling cubs,
+    Kind thoughts in their breasts they smother
+    And cruelly they shoot the mother.
+
+    And bullet fearful tore her jaws,
+    A bloody wound, but with her paws,
+    Erect in air an awful sight,
+    She was prepared for her young to fight.
+
+    But this did not daunt bold Bill Brown,
+    With club he tried to knock her down,
+    But she gave him an awful hug,
+    With paws she at him fierce did tug.
+
+    He would been smothered but for Dawes,
+    Who rescued him from her great paws,
+    With club he knocked her on the crown
+    And thus he saved the life of Brown.
+
+    She rose again with savage frown
+    And quickly broke two ribs for Brown,
+    His clothes were all torn with her claws,
+    She smeared with blood both Brown and Dawes.
+
+    But Dawes now quick doth end the strife
+    By stabbing her with hunting knife,
+    And now around this hunter bold
+    His bear skin coat keeps out the cold.
+
+
+
+
+COON HUNTING.
+
+
+    Canadians oft by light of moon
+    Love to go a hunting coon,
+    But this our tale it is no yarn,
+    While chopping down tree Henry Karn
+    Found therein a hollow chamber
+    Full of coons who there did clamber,
+    It made them a home superior,
+    Warm and snug in the interior.
+
+    And he did count therein eleven
+    Who long had found it a safe haven,
+    But it is sad to read their fate,
+    For out of them he slaughtered eight.
+    But trouble to him now occurs
+    What shall he do with those fine furs,
+    Shall he grand overcoat display
+    Or make them into robe for sleigh.
+
+
+
+
+SAILOR'S YARN.
+
+
+    While voyaging on northern seas
+    For days we could not catch a breeze,
+    But were held fast as if in vice
+    Surrounded by the bergs of ice,
+    We could not move the ship or boat
+    But on low, flat iceberg we did float;
+    Of provisions we took good store
+    With big oars we rowed the berg to shore,
+    And pride and joy each one feels
+    When we had caught ten thousand seals,
+    And our brave boys each one they dare
+    To boldly capture great white bear;
+    On floating berg we built with boards
+    A storehouse for to hold our hordes,
+    We had a stove and stock of coal,
+    So we enjoyed this voyage droll,
+    In centre of berg we dug a hole
+    And erected a strong pole,
+    The frost and ice soon held it fast
+    And well it served us for a mast,
+    On which we stretched out our sails
+    And scud along before the gales,
+    Until we came to an island
+    And on its sides it seemed highland,
+    And Britain being queen of seas,
+    For her this island we did seize,
+    To give her new coaling station
+    For to benefit the nation,
+    So when we had sailed landward
+    We erected British standard
+    On the highest mountain top,
+    Which graceful down to sea did slope,
+    We cast our anchor in its side
+    So to explore it far and wide,
+    But what was our astonishment
+    Without the least admonishment,
+    Our island soon away did float
+    As if it was a mighty boat.
+    Can you believe this wondrous tale?
+    It proved to be a monster whale,
+    And o'er the ocean quick it flew
+    With our great iceberg and our crew,
+    Until it came to Newfoundland,
+    Where all did safe on the ground land;
+    Poor whale was stranded on the beach
+    And his sea home no more could reach,
+    Our crew in great wealth each on shares,
+    By selling whale and seals and bears,
+    We hired steam tug to reach our ship,
+    Now free from ice we had quick trip,
+    And she being loaded down with seal,
+    And we all shared in common weal,
+    For joy each of us had reason,
+    Making two trips in one season.
+
+
+
+
+HUNTERS AND TRAPPERS.
+
+
+    Two hunters near to Hudson Bay,
+    Their names John Grant and Tom McKay,
+    Their skill and courage naught could daunt,
+    The boldest one perhaps was Grant.
+
+    The winter was their busy time,
+    When all was snow and frost and rime,
+    It paid best then to pull trigger,
+    For then furs were better thicker.
+
+    While setting trap Grant cut through boot
+    And quick the blood gushed from his foot,
+    The horrid scene, now who can paint,
+    For loss of blood soon makes him faint.
+
+    But his kind partner Tom McKay
+    The rush of blood he tried to stay,
+    And when its flow did somewhat slack
+    He carried him upon his back.
+
+    As homeward he doth slowly go,
+    A track of blood is o'er the snow,
+    But long and weary is the way
+    And soon exhausted is McKay.
+
+    He feels assistance he doth want,
+    For to rescue his dear friend Grant,
+    He stood him up against a tree
+    While the blood yet flowed quite free.
+
+    Now wolves had visited the trap
+    And blood from snow they eager lap,
+    Then tracked poor Grant, for on the snow
+    The blood in heavy drops did flow.
+
+    He soon got help, then John McKay
+    Doth hurry back without delay,
+    And what a sight then met their gaze
+    Filled them with horror and amaze.
+
+    The sight their minds will ever haunt,
+    Mangled by wolves was their friend Grant,
+    But round him several wolves were slain
+    With bullet holes right through their brain.
+
+    For he had fought hard for his life,
+    And some he slew with hunting knife,
+    And he is still quite surrounded,
+    While fierce brutes are badly wounded.
+
+    Now clubs doth soon dash out their brains
+    And then they gather Grant's remains,
+    They cut two saplings both same size,
+    With twigs they lace them acrosswise.
+
+    So it then made for the poor dead
+    A good soft and pliable bed,
+    Now to his home remains they bear,
+    Where his poor wife is in despair.
+
+
+
+
+WILD GOOSE SHOT AT MIDNIGHT, NOV., 1888.
+
+
+    From the regions of the north
+      Where the waters now are frozen,
+    Towards the south they issue forth
+      A flock of wild geese of four dozen.
+
+    But when they flew o'er the river Thames
+      They swooped down to take a dive,
+    But sport with shot gun at them aims
+      And one at least did not survive.
+
+    And he now says it tasted fine,
+      And that it was both fat and big,
+    A hungry man did on it dine,
+      Satisfied with just one leg.
+
+    He was sorry fowl to kill,
+      But they awoke him from his slumber,
+    The air with cackle they did fill,
+      And thus they lost one of their number.
+
+
+
+
+ADVENTURES WITH BEARS.
+
+
+    I bought of land two miles square,
+    I knew not it contained a bear,
+    I never thought there would be any,
+    But alas, I found many;
+    The bush was thick and mat and tangle,
+    It made it a perfect jungle,
+    But one mile square of good dry land
+    Was enough for me to take in hand;
+    Swamp I could reach but when frozen,
+    Then I saw bears by the dozen,
+    Thick as monkies in Africa,
+    And many a strange trick I saw,
+    Gamboling with the greatest ease,
+    High up the trunks of the big trees,
+    While some were swinging from branches
+    And hanging on them with their haunches;
+    But quietly I then tilled my farm,
+    The bears at first done me no harm,
+    Till one night I was roused by dogs,
+    And found a bear was at my hogs,
+    He threw a pig across each shoulder
+    And there I was a sad beholder,
+    But to the house I quickly run
+    For to procure my loaded gun,
+    And as he could not run but slow,
+    So heavy laden through the snow,
+    I him full soon did overtake,
+    And his courage quick I did shake,
+    For by the leg my good bold dog
+    He bravely caught the thievish rogue,
+    And this move made him soon fork o'er
+    To me at once the largest porker,
+    For moment squeeze it did pig stun,
+    But up he rose and quick he run,
+    The bear now scared his only hope,
+    To let at once the other pig drop,
+    I shot the bear right through the eyes
+    And secured a valued prize,
+    There's nothing I love so to eat
+    In winter time as the bear's meat,
+    So a victory I soon won
+    And sold for high price grease and skin;
+    The bears on honey love to thrive,
+    One morn was wrecked my best beehive,
+    That day I was to sell the honey
+    For to raise some ready money,
+    But bear my views he did despise
+    And proudly carried off the prize;
+    That night I set a good spring gun,
+    With rails I built for him a run,
+    Open all way to hive of bees,
+    He tried again a hive to seize,
+    But all his efforts were in vain,
+    He sprung the gun and he was slain,
+    O'er the fact I felt quite funny
+    It well repaid me for my honey;
+    One bear was playing on me joke,
+    Carrying off all my young stock,
+    I set my trap, built round it fence,
+    Resolved he ne'er would get from thence,
+    But at the first he did me hoax,
+    For he was cunning as a fox,
+    He dug under and stole my bait,
+    But I next sunk trap and sealed his fate,
+    My good iron trap again it caught
+    A great bear but it came to naught,
+    Breakfast he had at my expense
+    And he then showed wondrous sense,
+    Trap he picked up with greatest ease
+    And dashed it to pieces on the trees,
+    But blacksmith soon did it repair
+    For I was bound to have that bear,
+    I attached to trap a heavy clog,
+    It was like lifting a small log,
+    I drove in it some sharp iron spikes
+    Which would cut deep each time he strikes,
+    He tried again to steal my bait
+    And break my trap at the old rate,
+    But he soon dashed out his own brains,
+    His carcass it brought me great gains;
+    A neighbour man who would not work
+    I thought that he did steal my pork,
+    But at last I found long black hairs,
+    Then I knew it was the bears,
+    I put through barrels rods of iron
+    So they a bear neck would environ,
+    And rods together they would snap,
+    I found him choked quite dead in trap,
+    Since then my strife with bears did cease,
+    Now many years I've lived in peace.
+
+
+
+
+QUEEN'S JUBILEE ODE, 1887.
+
+
+    Canada proves her devotion
+    To her who rules o'er land and sea,
+    For loyal thoughts do hearts inspire,
+    To make more glorious empire.
+
+    'Tis fifty years since Queen was crowned,
+    Her brow with golden circlet bound,
+    She was a girl, graceful, fair,
+    And has felt joy and anxious care.
+
+    Happy years of married life
+    She enjoyed as Albert's wife,
+    But Albert died, the wise and good,
+    And she was left in widowhood.
+
+    In her reign the power of steam
+    On land and sea became supreme,
+    And all now have strong reliance
+    In fresh victories of science.
+
+    For man doth lightning now employ
+    And uses it for message boy,
+    And when he wants a brilliant light,
+    Electric orbs do shine most bright.
+
+    Britain's empire is extending,
+    Truth and justice ever blending,
+    May strife and discord ever cease,
+    And jubilee inaugurate peace.
+
+
+
+
+WARS IN QUEEN VICTORIA'S REIGN.
+
+
+    We will now sing in thoughtful strain
+    Of wars in Queen Victoria's reign.
+    The Russian bear did ages lurk,
+    All ready for to spring on Turk,
+    For Russian statesmen did divine
+    That they should conquer Constantine,
+    But like a greyhound after hare
+    The Lion did drive back the Bear,
+    And made it feel the British rule
+    At gates of strong Sebastopol.
+    Then insolent was Persia,
+    Till Lion had to dictate law,
+    And while engaged in scenes like these
+    He was attacked by the Chinese,
+    And for this outrage all so wanton
+    He then resolved to seize on Canton.
+    But soon there came a dismal cry
+    Of slaughter'd Britons from Delhi,
+    The Bengal Tiger sick with gore
+    Did tremble at the Lion's roar,
+    But Britain got a serious shock
+    By losing of brave Havelock,
+    But Campbell 'mid a numerous foe
+    Full quick these armed hosts did o'erthrow,
+    In Abyssinian dungeons vile
+    Lay captives of Great Britain's isle,
+    But soon the tyrant Theodore
+    Lay sadly weltering in his gore.
+    The savage tribes of Ashantee
+    From British troops did quickly flee,
+    In Afghan and Zulu wars
+    Many did find their deadly scars;
+    In the land of the Pharaohs
+    The Christians suffered cruel woes,
+    Till in Alexandria Bay
+    The British iron clads did display,
+    The mighty power they did wield,
+    While their steel sides from harm did shield,
+    And British army on the land
+    Marched bravely o'er the burning sand,
+    And Arabi found 'twas useless labor,
+    His strong trench of Tel-el-Kebir,
+    Egyptians did not wish to feel
+    In their breasts cold British steel,
+    Their great power was soon laid low
+    And Wolseley entered Grand Cairo.
+    Egyptians now no more revile
+    The Christians on the banks of Nile.
+    We have sung three heroes' names.
+    Havelock from the land of Thames,
+    And Campbell from the banks of Clyde,
+    And Wolseley from Liffy's side,
+    When rose, thistle, shamrock unite
+    They do prove victors in the fight,
+    Now Britain once more does command
+    Respect alike on sea and land,
+    But now may wars forever cease
+    And mankind ever live in peace.
+
+
+
+
+CRIMEAN WAR.
+
+At the announcement that Britain was to declare war Kossuth the
+Hungarian Patriot declared in an address in England that the British
+Lion was a sea dog but helpless on land.
+
+
+    When the British Lion offered aid to the Turk,
+    Round many lips a sneer of serious doubt did lurk,
+    They said he was at home on sea, but when on land
+    He would be as a ship wrecked upon the strand,
+    Or like some huge ungainly crocodile
+    Upon the marshy banks of sluggish Nile,
+    Who could move gaily on the deep
+    But on dry land could scarcely creep,
+    But up the Alma heights he rushed like greyhound after hare,
+    And in a moment by the throat he seized the Russian bear,
+    Which begged so hard for mercy his life he did it spare,
+    And closely now it is confined within its native lair,
+    For its strong fortress of Sebastpol
+    Was forced to submit to Great Britain's rule.
+
+
+
+
+INDIAN MUTINY.
+
+
+    British infants who were nobly born
+    Were from their bleeding mother's bosom torn,
+    And with the bayonet dashed upon the street
+    There left to lie for native dogs to eat.
+
+    But the British Lion he quick o'erthrew,
+    Both the high and the low Hindoo,
+    Now they respect the Christian laws
+    For fear of British Lion's paws.
+
+
+
+
+BEAR AND WHALE.
+
+A fable of the British and Russian dispute of 1885.
+
+
+    Russians suffer sad distress
+    For lack of freedom of the press,
+    But oft' times they are full able
+    To enlighten with a fable.
+
+    And they enjoy a humorous tale
+    Of a bear and monster whale,
+    The bear he went to the sea shore
+    The mighty ocean to explore.
+
+    And this it quick enraged the whale
+    Who beat the ocean with his tail,
+    With foaming words he told the bear
+    That he would strip his hide and hair.
+
+    If he ever found him more
+    Encroaching on his sea shore,
+    The bear replied I will not quail
+    At frothing words of any whale.
+
+    For you are a lump of blubber,
+    Whale rejoined you are land lubber,
+    Thus bandying epithets so vile,
+    Of bear grease and of whale oil.
+
+    Sharks and fishes of the ocean
+    Were thrown into great commotion,
+    The hawks and eagles of the air,
+    Lions and tigers gathered there.
+
+    Bear he wished the whale to slaughter,
+    But he was afraid of water,
+    The great whale feared that he might strand
+    If he ventured on the dry land.
+
+    So at last great Russia Bear
+    Went back again to his own lair,
+    And British whale content to be
+    Greatest monarch of the sea.
+
+
+
+
+GORDON AND BURNABY, 1885.
+
+
+    When the Chinese did rebel,
+    Gordon alone he could them quell,
+    With justice they his name revere,
+    The man who bullets did not fear.
+
+    It seemed as if his life had charm
+    That spear or lance could never harm,
+    He went alone this wondrous man
+    To fight false prophet of Soudan.
+
+    Assistance it arrives too late,
+    And traitors they have oped the gate,
+    To meet the foe he doth advance,
+    But fatal wound receives from lance.
+
+    And Britons all they do take pride
+    In Burnaby's Asiatic ride,
+    Russian mysteries to discover,
+    He crossed many a plain and river.
+
+    And his brave spirit led the van
+    To relieve Gordon in Soudan,
+    With his strong arm every blow
+    Laid at his feet some Arab foe.
+
+    But strong brave man who knew no fear,
+    He was transfixed by Arab spear,
+    And thus brave men their lives have lost,
+    Of war let nations never boast.
+
+    Unless it is in self defence,
+    Then they have glorious recompense,
+    But arts of peace they should be prized
+    By nations truly Christianized.
+
+
+
+
+ENGLISH POETS.
+
+Tercentenary ode on Shakespeare read by the author at the anniversary
+concert, 1864.
+
+
+    Three centuries have passed away
+    Since that most famous April day,
+    When the sweet, gentle Will was born,
+    Whose name the age will e're adorn.
+
+    That great Elizabethan age
+    Does not leave on history's page,
+    A name so bright he stands like Saul,
+    A head and shoulders over all.
+
+    Delineator of mankind,
+    Who shows the workings of the mind,
+    And in review in nature's glass,
+    Portrays the thoughts of every class.
+
+    That man is dull who will not laugh
+    At the drolleries of Falstaff,
+    And few that could not shed a tear
+    At sorrows of poor old King Lear.
+
+    Or lament o'er King Duncan's death
+    Stabbed by the dagger of McBeth,
+    Or gentle Desdemona pure,
+    Slain by the misled jealous Moor.
+
+    Or great Caesar mighty Roman
+    Who o'ercame his country's foemen,
+    His high deeds are all in vain,
+    For by his countrymen he's slain.
+
+    The greatest of heroic tales
+    Is that of Harry, Prince of Wales,
+    Who in combat fought so fiercely
+    With the brave and gallant Percy.
+
+    Imagination's grandest theme
+    The tempest or midsummer's dream,
+    And Hamlet's philosophic blaze
+    Of shattered reason's flickering rays.
+
+    And now in every land on earth
+    They commemorate Shakespeare's birth,
+    And there is met on Avon's banks
+    Men of all nations and all ranks.
+
+    And here upon Canadian Thames
+    The gentle maids and comely dames
+    Do meet and each does bring her scroll
+    Of laurel leaves from Ingersoll.
+
+
+MILTON.
+
+    Like mightiest organ in full tone,
+    Melodious, grand, is great Milton,
+    He did in lofty measures tell
+    How Satan, great archangel, fell,
+    When from heaven downward hurled;
+    And how he ruined this our world,
+    So full of guile he did deceive
+    Our simple hearted parent Eve.
+    He shows how pardon is obtained
+    And paradise may be regained.
+
+
+COLERIDGE, SOUTHEY AND WORDSWORTH.
+
+    England had triplets at a birth,
+    Coleridge, Southey and Wordsworth,
+    And these three are widely famed,
+    And the "Lake Poets" they were named.
+    With joy they did pursue their themes,
+    'Mong England's lakes and hills and streams,
+    From there with gladness they could view
+    The distant Scottish mountains blue.
+
+
+SHELLY.
+
+    We have scarcely time to tell thee
+    Of the strange and gifted Shelly,
+    Kind hearted man but ill-fated,
+    So youthful, drowned and cremated.
+
+
+BYRON.
+
+    Poets they do pursue each theme,
+    Under a gentle head of steam,
+    Save one who needed fierce fire on,
+    The brilliant, pasionate Byron.
+    His child Harold's pilgrimage,
+    Forever will the world engage;
+    He fought with glory to release
+    From Turkish yoke the isles of Greece,
+    Its glories oft by him were sung,
+    This wondrous bard, alas, died young.
+
+
+TENNYSON.
+
+    Of our Laureate we now do sing,
+    His youthful muse had daring wing,
+    He then despised Baronhood,
+    And sang 'twas noble to be good.
+    None sang like him of knights of old,
+    He England's glory did uphold;
+    In wondrous song he hath arrayed
+    Glorious charge of light brigade,
+    And he hath the people's benison,
+    Greatest of living poets Tennyson.
+
+
+DRYDEN AND POPE.
+
+    Genius of Dryden and of Pope,
+    Both did take a mighty scope,
+    The first he virgil did translate,
+    The second showed us Troys fate.
+    On English themes they oft did sing
+    And high their muses flight did wing.
+
+
+
+
+POETS AND PHILOSOPHERS.
+
+
+Bacon, Hogg, Lamb and Shakespeare.
+
+    Bacon, philosopher profound,
+    With mighty thoughts his works abound,
+    Reflections did his mind engage
+    Were in advance of his own age.
+
+    And Hogg the Ettrick shepherd bard,
+    High honors all do him award,
+    Great fame and glory he did reap
+    While tending to his flock of sheep.
+
+    And Lamb, the gentle and the good,
+    His works all show a happy mood;
+    About these names there is no waste,
+    Pleasing to fancy and to taste.
+
+    Some critics think they do make clear
+    The fact that Bacon wrote Shakespeare,
+    But a gent lives in New York
+    Asks what effect will it have on pork.
+
+    Of course it would quick awaken
+    A higher estimate of Bacon,
+    But it is folly for to rear
+    His fame on ruins of Shakespeare.
+
+    Though Will was not college bred,
+    With Greek they did not cram his head,
+    But he well knew by translations
+    The history of the ancient nations.
+
+    And mingled daily in the strife
+    With people in all walks of life,
+    His plays they are to nature true
+    Because he wrote of what he knew.
+
+    "Alas that I have wandered here and there"
+    He does cry out in his despair,
+    While he did lead a wandering life
+    And left alone his loving wife.
+
+
+
+
+IRISH POETS.
+
+
+    Moore found the ballads of Green Isle
+    Were oft obscured beneath the soil,
+    As miner digging in a mine
+    Finds rubbish 'mong the gold so fine,
+    So Moore placed dross in the waste basket
+    And enshrined jewels in casket,
+    Where all may view each charming gem
+    In Ireland's grand old diadem.
+
+    In eastern lands his fame prevails
+    In wondrous oriental tales,
+    So full of gems his Lala Rookh,
+    Hindoos and Brahmins read his book,
+    And dark eyed Persian girls admire
+    The beauty of his magic lyre,
+    Glowing like pearls of great price
+    Those distant gleams of paradise.
+
+    He sang of Bryan Borohm's glory,
+    Renowned in ancient Irish story,
+    And shows the wide expanded walls
+    Which once encircled Tara's Halls,
+    When joyous harp did there resound
+    And Ireland's greatest king was crowned,
+    All wars and tumults then did cease,
+    Ireland did prosper great in peace.
+
+    He sung of meeting of the waters
+    And of Ireland's charming daughters,
+    Great minstrel from his harp both flows,
+    Ireland's triumphs and her woes,
+    Canada doth his fame prolong
+    While she doth sing his great boat song,
+    And his own countrymen adore
+    The genial, witty, bright Tom Moore.
+
+
+OLIVER GOLDSMITH.
+
+    Goldsmith wrote of deserted village,
+    Now again reduced to tillage,
+    Once happiest village of the plain,
+    The place you look for it in vain,
+    There but one man he doth make rich,
+    While hundreds struggle in the ditch,
+    His honest vicar of Wakefield,
+    Forever he will pleasure yield.
+
+
+
+
+SCOTTISH POETS.
+
+The following ode was read by the author at the Centennial Anniversary
+of Burns in the year 1859.
+
+
+    This night shall never be forgot
+      For humble life none now despise,
+    Since Burns was born in lowly cot
+      Whose muses wing soars to the skies.
+
+    'Round Scotia's brow he wove a wreath
+      And raised her name in classic story
+    A deathless fame he did bequeath,
+      His country's pride, his country's glory.
+
+    He sang her hills, he sang her dales,
+      Of Bonnie Doon and Banks of Ayr,
+    Of death and Hornbook and such tales
+      As Tam O'Shanter and his mare.
+
+    He bravely taught that manly worth
+      More precious is than finest gold,
+    He reckoned not on noble birth,
+      But noble deeds alone extolled.
+
+    Where will we find behind the plow
+      Or in the harvest field at toil
+    Another youth, sweet bard, like thou,
+      Could draw the tear or raise the smile.
+
+    We do not think 'twas Burns' fault,
+      For there were no teetotalers then,
+    That Willie brewed a peck of malt
+      And Robin preed like other men.
+
+    'Tis true he loved the lasses dear,
+      But who for this would loudly blame,
+    For Scotia's maids his heart did cheer
+      And love is a true heavenly flame.
+
+    So here we've met in distant land
+      Poor honest Robin to extol,
+    Though oft we differ let us stand
+      United now in Ingersoll.
+
+
+
+
+BURNS AND SCOTT IN EDINBURGH.
+
+
+    When Burns did make triumphant entry
+    'Mong Edina's famous gentry,
+    A discussion did there arise
+    Among those solons learned and wise,
+    About some lines by a new poet.
+    The author's name none did know it,
+    Poem was of Canadian snow
+    And how o'er it the blood did flow,
+    For it had then been swept by war
+    Where armies met in deadly jar.
+
+    But 'mong philosophers was boy
+    Of tender years now Scotland's joy,
+    He there did quickly quote each line
+    And author's name he did define,
+    Burns glanced at him with loving eyes,
+    Youth ever more that look did prize,
+    The happiest moment in his lot
+    Ever revered by Walter Scott.
+    Thus Scotlands greatest poets met,
+    And they did part with sad regret.
+
+
+
+
+LINES ON SOUTH OF SCOTLAND.
+
+
+    The South of Scotland did produce
+    Heroic Wallace and the Bruce,
+    And even time will never blot
+    The record of her Burns and Scott,
+    And Tanahill renowned bard,
+    And that sweet songster Ettrick Shepherd.
+
+
+
+
+REPLY TO THE TOAST OF SCOTTISH POETS.
+
+
+    Burns sang so sweet behind the plow,
+    Daisies we'll wreath around his brow,
+    Musing on thee what visions throng,
+    Of floods you poured of Scottish song.
+    Scott he did write romancing rhymes
+    Of chivalry of ancient times;
+    For tender feeling none can cope
+    With Campbell the sweet Bard of hope.
+    Eye with sympathetic tear in
+    Will shed it for Exile of Erin,
+    And Tannahill while at his loom
+    Wove flowers of song will ever bloom.
+    Hogg, Ettrick Shepherd, did gain fame
+    By singing when the kye comes hame,
+    With good time coming Bard McKay
+    Still merrily doth cheer the way.
+
+
+
+
+JAMES HOGG.
+
+
+    The wondrous shepherd James Hogg
+    Was happy with his good sheep dog,
+    Meditating o'er his sweet lays
+    While his fleecy flocks did graze.
+
+    His education it came late
+    After he reached to man's estate,
+    While his flocks were busy feeding
+    His favourite authors he was reading.
+
+    Wondrous tales he did rehearse
+    Of witches both in prose and verse,
+    And he in fairy tales did glory
+    Traditions of each shepherd's story.
+
+    The shepherd he sang late and early
+    Of the deeds of bold Prince Charley,
+    And how the charming bonnie Flora
+    Soothed the Prince when in his sorrow.
+
+    Few songs possess so much vigor
+    As his gathering of McGregor,
+    The lover's heart is all aflame
+    To meet lassie when the kye comes hame.
+
+    But one who loved the shepherd's songs
+    And sang them unto countless throngs,
+    Great Kennedy has passed away
+    Now mournful is our Scottish lay.
+
+
+
+
+HIGHLAND SKETCHES.
+
+
+    The Romans, Saxons and the Danes
+    Did oft o'er run the Scottish plains.
+    So daring were those mauraders
+    And skilful too were invaders.
+
+    The lowland man enjoyed his farm,
+    But oft he was in great alarm,
+    When Highlanders o'er plain would sweep
+    And drive to hills his steers and sheep.
+
+    For highlandmen were taught in song
+    The lowlands to them did belong,
+    Each highland chief he ruled like king
+    And Bards they did his praises sing,
+
+    In war the chief he led the van,
+    Marching to battle with his clan,
+    And when the foe attacked their chief
+    The clansmen rushed to his relief.
+
+    When they King William's forces mass
+    In Killicrankie's famous pass,
+    The highlanders with joy and glee
+    Rushed on them led by bold Dundee.
+
+    Lowland troops they would not tarry
+    But they strove to ford the Garry,
+    Soon many on the field lay dead,
+    In river floated many a head.
+
+    For clansmen with the good broad sword
+    Of battlefield they soon were Lord,
+    And historians will rank the
+    Chief highland victory of Killicrankie.
+
+    Again there sweeps the highland clans,
+    Victorious at Preston Pans,
+    Under Prince Charlie full of hope,
+    They drove the troops were led by Cope.
+
+    But from Culloden Charlie flies
+    While Highland blood the heather dyes,
+    For months he wandered 'mong the hills
+    Young Flora strove to soothe his ills.
+
+    While he was hunted by blood hounds,
+    For sake of thirty thousand pounds,
+    But Highlanders the gold despise,
+    And honor only each doth prize.
+
+    At last to Charlie's great delight,
+    From France a vessel hove in sight,
+    And safely bore the gallant Prince
+    To the sunny shores of France.
+
+    And may once more each hill and glen
+    Be filled with hardy Highland men,
+    Who love bagpipes and bonnets blue
+    And give to Britain soldiers true.
+
+
+
+
+THE SHIRES ON THE MORAY FRITH.
+
+
+    Worthy of either song or story
+    Are the shires round frith of Moray,
+    Here lies the valley of Strathspey,
+    Famed for its music, lively, gay,
+    Elgin cathedral's 'prentice aisle
+    Is glory of that ruined pile.
+    What modern chisel now could trace
+    Fine sculpture of that ancient place,
+    And Forres famed for Sweno's stane
+    In honor of that kingly Dane,
+    'Graved with warriors runes and rhymes,
+    Long prior to historic times,
+    For a thousand years its been forgot
+    Who was victor Dane or Scot,
+    It is the country of McBeth
+    Where good King Duncan met his death,
+    And barren heath that place of fear
+    Stood witches cauldron of Shakespeare,
+    Nairn's Cawdor castle strong remains
+    Full worthy of the ancient Thanes,
+    And nestled 'neath the hills and bens
+    Queen of the moors, the lochs and glens,
+    Full proudly stands in vale of bliss
+    Chief Highland town of Inverness,
+    Near here the famous falls of Foyers
+    Where Burns and others tuned their lyres,
+    And the fatal field of dark Culloden
+    Where doughty clans were once down trodden,
+    Here men yet wear the tartan plaid
+    Ready to join the Highland Brigade,
+    And when the Frith you look across
+    The eye beholds Sutherland and Ross,
+    Where Duke has harnessed mighty team,
+    Plows hills and rocks and moors by steam,
+    Perhaps it may in part atone
+    For cruel clearings days bygone,
+    And Cromarty, whose wondrous mason,
+    First learned his geologic lesson,
+    Friends may rear a stately pillar,
+    The old red sand stone of Hugh Miller,
+    Ben Wyvis towers like monarch crowned,
+    Conspicuous o'er the hills around,
+    With crest 'ere white with driven snow,
+    Strathpeffer's water cure below.
+
+
+
+
+LINES READ AT A SCOTTISH ANNIVERSARY AT EMBRO.
+
+
+    Scotsmen have wandered far and wide
+    From Moray Frith to Frith of Clyde,
+    McDonald from his sea girt isle,
+    And Campbell from his broad Argyle.
+
+    But chiefly here you have come forth
+    From those counties of the north,
+    Some oft have trod Dunrobins halls
+    And gazed upon its stately walls.
+
+    Here to night in this array
+    Is Murray, McKenzie and McKay,
+    And there doth around us stand
+    The Munroe, Ross and Sutherland.
+
+    Your young men have high honor earned
+    In all of the professions learned,
+    Your bonnie lasses sung in song,
+    And youths are famed for muscle strong.
+
+
+
+
+LINES READ AT ST. ANDREW'S ANNIVERSARY, 1868.
+
+
+    Scotia's sons to-night we meet thee,
+    With kindly feelings we do greet thee,
+    In honor of the land of heather,
+    Around this board to-night we gather.
+
+    Land where the fields for border edges,
+    Have garlands of blooming hedges,
+    Land of the whin and of the broom
+    And where the bonnie blue bells bloom.
+
+    Land where you may enraptured hark
+    To heavenly song of the skylark,
+    Which soars triumphant in the skies
+    Above the gaze of human eyes.
+
+    Land of bleak hills and fertile dales,
+    Where they tell oft their fairy tales,
+    Land where the folks do love the kirk
+    And on the Sabbath cease from work.
+
+    Land of porridge and of brose,
+    Of blue bonnets and of tartan hose,
+    The land where all good wives do bake
+    The thrifty, wholesome, oaten cake.
+
+    We hope some day to tread the strand
+    Of our own dear native land,
+    And o'er the sea we'll some day sail
+    To get a bowl of good green kail.
+
+
+
+
+DICK AND EDWARD.
+
+
+    The Thurso baker Robert Dick[E]
+    Armed with his hammer and his pick,
+    Dame nature's secrets did reveal,
+    Which she for ages did conceal.
+
+    In Banff has genius found regard
+    In the person of an Edward,[F]
+    Who now does rank among the first
+    In the world as naturalist.
+
+
+[E] Dick was both a geologist and botanist and was of great service to
+Hugh Millar.
+
+[F] Edward is a shoemaker by trade, remarkable for his knowledge of the
+lower grades of animated nature.
+
+
+
+
+CASTLE GORDON.
+
+
+    In youth we spent a pleasant day
+    Round Castle Gordon on the Spey,
+    There is no Clan can gird the sword on,
+    Can compare with the Clan Gordon,
+    In India, China and Soudan,
+    They manfully have led the van.
+
+
+
+
+PRINCE CHARLIE'S GRANDSONS.
+
+Oft' times these handsome gentlemen appeared in the garb of old Gaul.
+
+
+    Long 'ere Her Majesty the Queen
+    Had visited of Aberdeen,
+    'Ere she in castle did abide
+    'Mong glorious hills on the Dee side,
+    Or visited each Highland glen,
+    Or won the hearts of Highland men,
+    Here oft' was seen in celtic dress
+    Two Stewarts brave in Inverness,
+    Well worthy of the poet's lyre.
+    They claimed Prince Charlie as grandsire,
+    And that they also did combine
+    Stuart with Royal Polish line,
+    Their names Sobieskie, Stuart,
+    They won many a Highland heart,
+    But Royal order did go forth
+    To build Balmoral Castle North,
+    Then wondrous change was quickly seen,
+    All hearts were captured by the Queen.
+
+
+The Royal Stuarts are owners of large estates on the banks of the
+Findhorn and their great rivals were near by the Royal Comyns. The Lion
+Hunter Gordon Comyn was of this stock. Professor J. S. Blockie has
+written a fine poem on the wars of the rival houses.
+
+
+    "Here where the dark water'd stream rushes free,
+          child of the mountain."
+
+
+
+
+ST. ANDREW.
+
+Read at Anniversary.
+
+
+    Our ancient custom to renew,
+    We meet to honor St. Andrew,
+    He was of the Jewish nation,
+    A fisherman by occupation;
+    No warlike knight with lance and sword
+    But humbly following his Lord;
+    And Scotia she justly claims
+    Her soil contains his last remains,
+    In early times the Pilgrims drew
+    Into the shrine of St. Andrew,
+    For miracles it gained renown,
+    And thence sprang up St. Andrew's town;
+    Now clansmen twine round maple leaf,
+    When rallying at the call of chief,
+    And time will come when we'll be one,
+    And proud of name Canadian,
+    But Scotia must not be forgot
+    For sake of Chalmers, Burns and Scott,
+    But here upon Canadian soil
+    A man may own where he doth toil,
+    For here each may enjoy the charm
+    Of owning fine prairie farm.
+
+Entwining of the thistle around the maple tree, Scotia's sons have
+indented their names deep in Canadian history. The names of McDonald,
+McKenzie, Cameron and Mowat stand conspicuous, and Brown second to none.
+For wealth, enterprise and benevolence those Montreal Scotsmen stand
+high, Sir Donald A. Smith, Sir George Stephens and Duncan McIntyre.
+
+
+
+
+RIVER CLYDE.
+
+
+    The Glasgow people do take pride
+    In their river both deep and wide,
+    In early times the youth and maid
+    Did o'er its shallow waters wade.
+
+    But city money did not grudge,
+    And dug it deep with the steam dredge,
+    And now proudly on its bosom floats
+    The mighty ships and great steamboats.
+
+    No wonder citizens take pride
+    For they themselves have made the Clyde,
+    Great and navigable river,
+    Where huge fleets will float forever.
+
+    Dunbarton's lofty castle rock[G]
+    Which oft' has stood the battle's shock,
+    The river it doth boldly guard,
+    So industry may reap reward.
+
+    But more protection still they deem
+    Is yet required so down the stream
+    Strong batteries are erected,
+    So commerce may be safe protected.
+
+    Old ocean now he doth take pride
+    To see upon his bosom ride
+    The commerce of his youngest bride,
+    The fair and lovely charming Clyde.
+
+[G] Mr. James Sinclair of this town has written a fine piece
+remonstrating against the removal of the sword of Wallace from its old
+place of safety, Dunbarton Castle.
+
+
+
+
+ELF SHOT.
+
+
+    A lad brought up in Highland vale
+    Who did believe each fairy tale,
+    Which his grannie oft' to him told,
+    And of witches and of warlocks bold,
+    And he himself would often pour
+    For hours reading wizard lore.
+    One night his mother to the town
+    In a hurry sent him down,
+    So o'er his pony he did stride,
+    And to the town did fearful ride,
+    He thought that demons they would rush
+    On him from every rock and bush,
+    And as he rode through the quarry
+    It did great increase his flurry,
+    He felt that fiends with fiercest hate
+    Would surely there seal fast his fate.
+
+    But town he reached and 'neath his vest
+    He parcel pressed close to his breast,
+    The pony now he mounts once more
+    For to pass quarry as before,
+    But, alas, at that fatal spot
+    He heard a gun, he was elf shot,
+    He felt that from his breast a flood
+    Was pouring down of his heart's blood,
+    But he clung fast to pony's back,
+    Though loss of blood his frame did rack,
+    But in spite of his alarms
+    He resolved to die in mother's arms,
+    And when he reached his own door
+    He said that he was drenched in gore,
+    From bullet hole all in his breast.
+    His father opened up his vest,
+    And he did sadly fear the worst
+    But found yeast bottle had but burst.
+
+
+
+
+HALLOWE'EN.
+
+
+    A tale we'll tell of what hath been
+    When maids and youths kept Hallowe'en,
+    It is a tale of old world lore
+    What happened in the days of yore,
+    When fairies danced upon the green
+    So merrily on Hallowe'en,
+    And witches did play many a trick
+    Assisted by their auld friend Nick,
+    And lovers meet around the fire
+    Near to the one their hearts desire,
+    For to burn nuts for to discover
+    The truthfulness of their lover.
+    They first did give each nut a name,
+    This was Sandy, that was Jane.
+    If they did blaze side by side,
+    She knew her husband, he his bride,
+    But if one up the chimney flew,
+    One knew the other was not true.
+    And one sure test did never fail,
+    Blindfold to find good stock of kale,
+    To pull the first comes to the hand
+    With heavy roots of earth and sand,
+    For the very weight of mould
+    Does denote weight of lovers gold.
+    In tubs children love to splatter,
+    Ducking for apples in the water,
+    For such were the delights of yore,
+    Which soon will cease for evermore;
+    At Balmoral Castle Britain's Queen
+    Oft' celebrated Hallowe'en,
+    But Highland landlords now do clear
+    Land of men to make room for deer,
+    But here upon Canadian soil
+    A man may own where he doth toil.
+
+
+
+
+AMERICAN POETS.
+
+
+    Like fruit that's large and ripe and mellow,
+    Sweet and luscious is Longfellow,
+    Melodious songs he oft did pour
+    And high was his Excelsior.
+    He shows in his Psalm of Life
+    The folly of our selfish strife,
+    With Hiawatha we bewail
+    His suffering in great Indian tale.
+    Indian nation was forlorn
+    Till great spirit planted corn;
+    His story of Evangeline
+    It is a tale of love divine.
+
+
+POE.
+
+    A great enchanter too is Poe,
+    His bells do so harmonious flow,
+    Wondrous mystery of his raven
+    On our minds is 'ere engraven,
+    His wierd, wonderful romances
+    Imagination oft entrances.
+
+
+LOWELL.
+
+    With pleasure we would love to dwell
+    On the charming themes of Lowell.
+
+
+BRYANT.
+
+    Some in front rank will defiant,
+    Boldly place the poet Bryant.
+
+WHITTIER.
+
+    Others seek for music in the twitter
+    Of the sweet, charming notes of Whittier.
+
+
+SAXE.
+
+    The mind that's sad it doth relax
+    The humor of the witty Saxe,
+    He puts us in a cheerful mood,
+    Mirthful as our own Tom Hood.
+
+
+WILL CARLETON.
+
+    In homely apparel one
+    Clothes farming songs Will Carleton,
+    But they have a manly ring
+    And we his praises hearty sing.
+
+
+MILLAR.
+
+    And Millar poet of Sierras,
+    For bold deeds he doth prepare us,
+    And now he lives by the golden gate,
+    Honored in California's state,
+    To poet 'tis position grand,
+    Commissioner of Forest land.
+
+
+HOLMES.
+
+    O'er flowery fields full oft he roams,
+    The learned and pleasing genial Holmes.
+
+
+WALT WHITMAN.
+
+    For erratic style he leads van,
+    Wildly wayward Walt Whitman,
+    He done grand work in civil war,
+    For he did dress many a scar,
+    And kindly wet the hot parched mouth
+    Of Northern soldiers wounded South.
+
+
+
+
+LOFTY ACTORS WITHDRAW.
+
+
+    As one by one the lofty actors of the age
+    Withdraw from changing play on history's page,
+    The act of war and peace of old and new contending
+    For it is long 'ere there's harmonious blending.
+
+    And many a noble actor brave and bold
+    Hath perished in the fight between the new and old,
+    The victor and the vanquished Lincoln and Lee,
+    The former he four million slaves set free.
+
+    The latter General fought with bravery and science,
+    The first he on the Lord placed strong reliance,
+    And in the justice of his cause he bade the North
+    As grand emancipators they should issue forth.
+
+    And o'er great North the conquering name of Grant
+    His mighty deeds of valour they 'ere more will chant,
+    And now doth pass from stage this last named actor,
+    In crushing Southern slavery potent factor.
+
+
+
+
+UNITED STATES.
+
+
+    The United States is wondrous land,
+    Within its mighty borders grand,
+    They are a world unto themselves,
+    In South the Negro plows and delves.
+
+    Raising tobacco, sugar, cotton,
+    Grapes and rice too may be gotten,
+    The west for corn, cattle and swine,
+    On which millions o'er the world dine.
+
+    The silver hills of Colorado,
+    Equaled only by Nevada,
+    And o'er the world you can't behold
+    Aught like California's mines of gold.
+
+    To vast extent her exports reaches,
+    Of grapes and oranges and peaches,
+    And Florida the land of flowers
+    Is famous for its orange bowers.
+
+    Pennsylvania's hills environ
+    Wondrous mines of coal and iron,
+    Great marvel of these modern days,
+    All you require yourselves could raise.
+
+    But still Canadians are content
+    With their own half of continent,
+    Though Uncle Sam is most wealthy,
+    Canada's content and healthy.
+
+    Sam and her are blood relation,
+    Sprung alike from British nation,
+    May peaceful odes alone be sung
+    'Tween people of one race and tongue.
+
+    When Canada's ten million strong,
+    Then none will dare to do her wrong,
+    Either as a youthful nation
+    Or in Imperial Federation.
+
+
+
+
+CALEDONIA SPRINGS, NEW YORK.
+
+
+    The water spouts up from the ground
+    And there doth form a pond around,
+    'Tis fed from no apparent rills,
+    And it near by drives several mills.
+
+    And here the little ponds are seen
+    Where fish are propogate by Green,
+    Fish hatcheries here had their birth,
+    And now they're spread o'er all the earth.
+
+    Here in each pond thousands of trout
+    Rush around their circular route,
+    Of various breeds, age and size,
+    Speckled o'er with various dyes.
+
+    Geologists do gaze with pride
+    On specimens all petrified,
+    Here church is built of those rare stone,
+    Fish, reptiles, birds, in days bygone.
+
+    Strange thoughts in mind it doth awake,
+    As it is far from sea and lake,
+    Even the hill tops do abound
+    With proofs here flowed the sea profound.
+
+    With reverence we gaze around
+    On an ancient burial ground,
+    Those who once did tread the heather
+    Now rest quietly here together.
+
+
+
+
+LOCAL SKETCHES.
+
+
+    On grassy amphitheatre,
+    Spectators sit to view the war,
+    'Mong bold contestants on the plain
+    Where each doth strive the prize to gain.
+
+    Come witness the great tug of war,
+    And see great hammer thrown afar,
+    See running, jumping, highland fling,
+    At concert hear the skylark sing.
+
+    And the bagpipes will send thrills,
+    Like echoes from the distant hills,
+    And the bold sound of the pibroch,
+    Which does resound o'er highland loch.
+
+    Young men and maids and fine old dames
+    Will gather on the banks of Thames,
+    And though we have a tug of war
+    'Twill leave no wound or deadly scar.
+
+
+
+
+GREAT FIRE IN INGERSOLL, MAY, 1872.
+
+
+    'Twas on a pleasant eve in May,
+    Just as the sun shed its last ray,
+    The bell it rang, citizens to warn,
+    For lo! a fire appears in barn.
+
+    An ancient barn near hotel stood,
+    The joining buildings all were wood,
+    This barn a relic of the past,
+    There farmers' horses were made fast.
+
+    Our once fair town is now in woe,
+    And we have had our Chicago,
+    But soon a nobler town will rise,
+    For our town is all enterprise.
+
+
+
+
+MASONIC LINES READ AT A BANQUET, 1884.
+
+
+The prominent names in Masonry are Kings Solomon and Hiram and St. John.
+
+    Craft of King Hiram and St. John,
+    They figurative work on stone,
+    King Hiram he is the old sire
+    And he was famous King of Tyre.
+
+    But great as King upon a throne
+    Is the good, kind, true St. John,
+    Cathedrals did craftsmen raise,
+    Fills all our minds now with amaze.
+
+    No modern chisel has the power
+    To trace such leaf, and bud, and flower,
+    But though our structures now are rude
+    Let us all make the mortar good.
+
+    And this injunction never spare,
+    To have the work both plumb and square,
+    And it must have no crack nor flaw,
+    So masters will lay down the law.
+
+    Of all our work this is the chief,
+    To give the needy ones relief,
+    And with truth and brotherly love
+    We sublime structure raise above.
+
+    The greatest honor has been won
+    By that great builder Solomon,
+    And craftsmen o'er the world do sing
+    The praises of that mighty King.
+
+
+
+
+ODDFELLOWSHIP LINES READ AT CONCERT, 1883.
+
+
+    We look in vain for our Past Grands,
+    Now scattered over many lands,
+    Now some o'er the wide world do rove,
+    And some have joined Grand Lodge above,
+    But ever since Father Adams' fall
+    We are dependent creatures all,
+    Though man is weak yet he may join
+    With others strength for to combine.
+
+    The illustration it is grand,
+    Five Oddfellows in one hand,
+    And yet they all united stand,
+    Each finger hath a different length,
+    Each finger varies in its strength,
+    Each one is weak, but a firm fist,
+    You can scarcely break or twist,
+    'Tis same with members of a lodge,
+    United them you cannot budge.
+
+    Then let us linked with pleasant chain,
+    Friendship, love and truth maintain,
+    And aid our brothers in distress,
+    The widows and the orphans bless,
+    Then let each lodge strive all it can,
+    Both Oxford and Samaritan
+    To aid distressed brother man,
+    Extending influence for good,
+    And universal brotherhood.
+
+
+
+
+ADVICE TO A LITTLE GIRL.
+
+The following lines were written at the request of a little girl, who
+said she would recite them at a Sunday School entertainment. Prof. J. S.
+Blackie of Edinburgh, in a letter acknowledging the receipt of my book,
+said he considered this piece worthy of being committed to memory in the
+public schools. Sir Daniel Wilson of Toronto University also approves of
+them as containing good sentiments and should be impressed on the minds
+of the young.
+
+
+    Dressing in fashion will be called vain,
+    And they'll call you a dowdy if you are plain,
+    But do what is right, let that be the test,
+    Then proudly hold up your head with the best.
+            For people will talk.
+
+    You will never be wrong if you do what is right,
+    And this course pursue with all of your might,
+    And if you're a child going to school,
+    Or full grown up take this for your rule.
+            For people will talk.
+
+    The best way to do is to let them rave
+    And they'll think more of you if you are brave,
+    For no one will ever think you are rude
+    If you are determined for to be good.
+            For people will talk.
+
+    Little girl on her way to Sunday School class,
+    Rude boys sometimes will not let her pass,
+    But if they see she is not afraid
+    They soon will respect the brave little maid.
+            For people will talk.
+
+    Little girls should learn to knit and to sew,
+    Then if to womanhood they ever grow,
+    Their hose they can knit and make their own dress,
+    And pathway of life for others they bless.
+            For people will talk.
+
+    And their homes they should make tidy and neat,
+    Everything should be so clean and so sweet,
+    This line for ourselves out we will chalk
+    And we are determined in it to walk.
+            For people will talk.
+
+
+
+
+IN MEMORIAM.
+
+Lines on the death of my only son, who died on the 5th of July, 1876, on
+the anniversary of his mother's death.
+
+
+    His mother from celestial bower,
+    In the self-same day and hour
+    Of her death or heavenly birth,
+    Gazed again upon the earth,
+    And saw her gentle, loving boy,
+    Once source of fond maternal joy,
+    In anguish on a couch of pain.
+    She knew that earthly hopes were vain,
+    And beckoned him to realms above
+    To share with her the heavenly love.
+
+
+
+
+PROVIDENTIAL ESCAPE.
+
+Providential escape of Ruby and Neil McLeod, children of Angus McLeod of
+this town. Little Neil McKay McLeod, a child of three years of age, was
+carried under a covered raceway, upwards of one hundred yards, the whole
+distance being either covered o'er with roadway, buildings or ice.
+
+
+    A wondrous tale we now do trace
+    Of little children fell in race,
+    The youngest of these little dears,
+    The boy's age is but three years.
+
+    While coasting o'er the treacherous ice,
+    These precious pearls of great price,
+    The elder Ruby, the daughter,
+    Was rescued from the ice cold water.
+
+    But horrid death each one did feel,
+    Had sure befallen little Neil,
+    Consternation all did fill,
+    And they cried shut down the mill.
+
+    But still no person they could tell
+    What had the poor child befel,
+    The covered race, so long and dark,
+    Of hopes there scarcely seemed a spark.
+
+    Was he held fast as if in vice,
+    Wedged 'mong the timbers and the ice,
+    Or was there for him ample room
+    For to float down the narrow flume.
+
+    Had he found there a watery grave,
+    Or borne along on crest of wave,
+    Think of the mother's agony wild,
+    Gazing through dark tunnel for her child.
+
+    But soon as Partlo started mill,
+    Through crowd there ran a joyous thrill,
+    When he was quickly borne along,
+    The little hero of our song.
+
+    Alas! of life there is no trace,
+    And he is black all over face,
+    Though he then seemed as if in death,
+    Yet quickly they restored his breath.
+
+    Think now how mother[H] she adored
+    Her sweet dear child to her restored,
+    And her boundless gratitude
+    Unto the author of all good.
+
+[H] Mrs. Mary McKay McLeod, the author of some fine poems on Scottish
+and Canadian subjects.
+
+
+
+
+Moral and Reflective.
+
+
+
+
+BRAIN ENGRAVINGS.
+
+
+    Great wonder is the human brain,
+    How it impressions doth retain,
+    Inscribed on it are autographs,
+    And there is also photographs.
+
+    And every hill and plain and nook,
+    It is deep graven in this book,
+    A great variety here belongs,
+    Snatches of sermons and of songs.
+
+    Here you'll find are numerous themes,
+    Both mighty thoughts and foolish dreams,
+    Here love and hope so bright and fair,
+    There hate and doubt and dark despair.
+
+    And here is too the bower of bliss,
+    Where youthful lovers first did kiss,
+    Here are memories of childhood
+    And of old ages thoughtful mood.
+
+    View well the whole, 'tis a strange sight,
+    Both of suffering and delight,
+    You see the parting with old friend,
+    And where new hearts with yours do blend.
+
+    Greatest blessing, hope of heaven,
+    For our comfort it is given,
+    Indented deep in mind of wise
+    Are glories of the heavenly prize.
+
+
+
+
+SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST.
+
+
+    Now let the hero of our song,
+    Be he who gentle treats the throng,
+    And would not cruel treat another,
+    But to each be as to a brother.
+
+    And he must have both sense and wit,
+    And be possessed of strength and grit,
+    Then strong as proof of holy writ,
+    For to survive he is most fit.
+
+    And according to our test,
+    The fittest only is the best,
+    These have a right for to survive,
+    And well they do deserve to thrive.
+
+    And this kind of evolution
+    It will bring no revolution,
+    But revolve in Christian sphere,
+    Where scripture truths are prized and dear.
+
+    Give us the man doth persevere,
+    And presses on in his career,
+    Undaunted struggling for the right,
+    Though all mankind 'gainst him unite.
+
+    Though now on top of highest mount,
+    Where he has found true honour's fount,
+    Yet those below he don't despise,
+    But strives to aid them for to rise.
+
+
+
+
+MOTTO.
+
+
+    Politeness, perseverance and pluck,
+    To their possessor will bring good luck.
+
+
+
+
+THINGS SHOULD BE JUDGED BY MERIT.
+
+
+    A picture hung in a public hall,
+    And it was much admired by all,
+    Painted by a true artist's hand,
+    The subject it was truly grand.
+
+    Its fame o'er the whole world resounds,
+    Valued at ten thousand pounds,
+    Beauteous lady none 'ere passed her,
+    She was the work of an old master.
+
+    At last a critic keen did gaze
+    And saw 'twas work of modern days,
+    Then quick it was pronounced a daub,
+    And artist but a money grab.
+
+    The true, the noble and the grand,
+    Will lend to struggling helping hand,
+    Then let no man of dues be shorn,
+    If he a subject doth adorn.
+
+
+
+
+LINES ON A FOUNTAIN.
+
+
+    We love cold water as it flows from the fountain,
+    Which nature hath brewed alone in the mountain;
+    In the wild woods and in the rocky dell,
+    Where man hath not been but the deer loves to dwell;
+    And away across the sea in far distant lands,
+    In Asia's gloomy jungles and Africa's drifting sands;
+    Where to the thirsty traveller a charming spot of green
+    Is by far the rarest gem his eyes have ever seen;
+    And when he has quenched his thirst at the cooling spring,
+    With many grateful songs he makes the air to ring;
+    For many nights he dreams of this scene of bliss,
+    And when he thinks of Heaven it is of such as this.
+
+
+
+
+THE GATES AJAR.
+
+
+    A good kind man who knew no malice,
+    Happy with wife and daughter Alice,
+    More precious far to him than gold,
+    His little darling six years old.
+
+    True nobleman with many friends,
+    His career too soon it ends,
+    The casket friends enshrined with flowers,
+    While soul had fled to heavenly bowers.
+
+    The wreaths were lovely, but the star,
+    Admired by all was gates ajar,
+    The widow led her little girl
+    To where death his dart did hurl.
+
+    And stricken her poor father down,
+    But child exclaimed he's won the crown,
+    And he will watch for me afar,
+    And keep for me the gates ajar.
+
+    And when we cross the crystal fount,
+    He will point out the heavenly mount,
+    Here neither sun nor moon doth shine,
+    Lighted with radiance all divine.
+
+    For I know well for me he'll wait
+    Anxious at the pearly gate,
+    For I would fear to view alone
+    The glories of the heavenly throne.
+
+    Pa will admit his little Alice
+    Safe into the heavenly palace,
+    And glories to me will unfold
+    As we tread the streets of gold.
+
+
+
+
+CHILD MADE HAPPY.
+
+
+    In a great city hospital
+    There lay poor Mary Crosby small,
+    She had no friends her heart to cheer,
+    So time with her passed sad and drear.
+
+    She sought for ease but all in vain,
+    Month after month she passed in pain,
+    She had no relative nor friend
+    Who aid or comfort could her lend.
+
+    A surgeon saw her cheerless state,
+    And deplored the poor child's fate,
+    She tried to make doll of her finger,
+    And sang to it poor little singer.
+
+    Her's indeed was an awful lot,
+    The weary days she spent in cot,
+    For the poor child she could not walk,
+    And it soon exhausted her to talk.
+
+    But surgeon bought her ribbon gay,
+    And with it she all day did play,
+    The giver often she did bless,
+    And thought sometimes she was princess.
+
+    For in it she did take such pride,
+    She fancied she was beauteous bride,
+    And was possessed of great riches,
+    Or thought herself a wealthy Duchess.
+
+    And she would bind it round her hair,
+    Imagining that she was fair.
+    But poor child feels that she must die,
+    She asks the surgeon to come nigh.
+
+    And kindly o'er her he doth stand,
+    She asked him for to take her hand,
+    Thanked him for ribbon green and blue,
+    Then evermore bade him adieu.
+
+
+
+
+POETRY.
+
+
+    Poetry to us is given,
+    As stars beautify the Heaven,
+    Or, as the sunbeams when they gleam,
+    Sparkling so bright upon the stream,
+    And the poetry of motion
+    Is ship sailing o'er the ocean;
+    Or, when the bird doth graceful fly,
+    Seeming to float upon the sky,
+    For poetry is the pure cream,
+    And essence of the common theme.
+
+    Poetic thoughts the mind doth fill,
+    When on broad plain to view a hill,
+    On barren heath how it doth cheer,
+    To see in distance herd of deer,
+    And poetry breathes in each flower,
+    Nourished by the gentle shower,
+    In song of birds upon the trees,
+    And humming of busy bees,
+    'Tis solace for the ills of life,
+    A soothing of the jars and strife,
+    For poets feel 'tis a duty
+    To sing of both worth and beauty.
+
+
+
+
+POWER OF LOVE.
+
+
+    Love it is the precious loom,
+      Whose shuttle weaves each tangled thread,
+    And works flowers of exquisite bloom,
+      Shedding their perfume where we tread.
+
+
+
+
+HER LOVER'S STEP.
+
+
+    Step, step, step, 'tis her lover's walk,
+    She knows his step as well's his talk;
+    He is the favorite of her choice,
+    So his step's familiar as his voice.
+
+    Step, step, step, she now is wed,
+    And it is now her husband's tread;
+    His homeward step it cheers her life,
+    For she is a kind faithful wife.
+
+    But he the husband and yet lover,
+    His steps at last do cease forever;
+    And she doth soon hear the tread
+    Of men who do bear out the dead.
+
+    Her heart it now doth throb with pain,
+    Though she knows sorrow is but vain;
+    For him she never can recall,
+    And no more hear his footsteps fall.
+
+    But still she hopes he yet will come
+    And visit her in their old home;
+    But time approaches, she must die,
+    Her husband's footsteps she hears nigh.
+
+    Step, step, step, we ne'er shall part,
+    I hear the echo in my heart;
+    Now happiness dispels the gloom,
+    Radiant with joy my face doth bloom.
+
+    Pain and suffering all are past,
+    She joyous cried he's come at last;
+    And soon she breathes out her last breath,
+    He guides her through the vale of death.
+
+
+
+
+THE USEFUL WEED.
+
+
+    Do not despise the humble weed,
+    For the Lord He first sowed the seed,
+    Perhaps it bears most precious fruit,
+    And useful leaves and potent root.
+
+    Though it seems now a useless weed,
+    Countless millions it yet may feed,
+    Or future ages it may prize,
+    Finding in it beauteous dyes.
+
+    Or a valued healing balm,
+    Will make the heated pulse beat calm,
+    And the future men of science,
+    May place on it strong reliance.
+
+    And it may play important part,
+    In advancing skill and art,
+    And no person now doth know
+    How useful are the weeds that grow.
+
+    Weeds we now look on with loathing,
+    They may yet be used for clothing,
+    Producing silken glossy coat,
+    Or paper fine for the bank note.
+
+    But you at present must take heed,
+    And do not grow the cumbrous weed,
+    Either in garden or in field,
+    Where plants with profit now do yield.
+
+
+
+
+GOLDEN EGG.
+
+
+    In ancient times we have been told
+    A goose did lay an egg of gold,
+    She did produce one every day,
+    So regular this goose did lay.
+
+    But her stupid foolish master
+    Wanted her to lay them faster,
+    And he at last the goose did kill,
+    Gold grist no more came to his mill.
+
+    But a strange tale we now unfold,
+    In California's mines of gold,
+    There they keep both hens and chickens,
+    'Mong the gravel scratching pickings.
+
+    But hens do find the golden shiner,
+    Is too heavy for their dinner,
+    For it they cannot well digest,
+    As it lies solid in their breast.
+
+    Then they are slain and you behold
+    In their craw the shining gold,
+    Made up of particles so fine,
+    The purest gold in all the mine.
+
+    Then how happy is the miner,
+    When he has sweet fowl for dinner,
+    And he doth find within its craw,
+    A little golden bonanza.
+
+    And in Ontario the hen
+    Is worthy of the poet's pen,
+    For she doth well deserve the praise
+    Bestowed on her for her fine lays.
+
+
+
+
+LITTLE DORA.
+
+
+    I tell you what my little Dora,
+    You do cause my heart to sorrow,
+    Tell me now you little misses
+    What you do with all your kisses.
+
+    I see you get them by the dozen
+    From each aunt and little cousin,
+    Said she I do intend dear pa
+    To give them all to you and ma.
+
+    And not a single one I'll miss,
+    But I will give you back each kiss,
+    And both of you will feel you're blest
+    When I pay you interest.
+
+    You'll better in my bank invest
+    And put my principle to test,
+    And you can dividend partake,
+    For my bank will never break.
+
+
+
+
+LINES ON THE DEATH OF A FARMER'S WIFE.
+
+
+    This good woman when in this life,
+    She was kind mother and good wife,
+    And managed her household with care,
+    She and her husband happy pair.
+
+    And her name it will long be praised
+    By the large family she has raised,
+    She laid up treasures in the skies,
+    And now enjoys the Heavenly prize.
+
+    She rose each morn with happy smile,
+    And ardent all the day did toil,
+    For work it to her had a charm,
+    And busy was each hand and arm.
+
+
+
+
+FIGHTING FOR HOME.
+
+
+    A hawk while soaring on the wing,
+    O'er a tiny sparkling spring,
+    Beheld a sleek and beauteous mink,
+    Was enjoying a bath and drink.
+
+    And though the hawk was bent on slaughter
+    The mink was more at home on water,
+    And it is strange this curious quarrel
+    All occurred in a sunk barrel.
+
+    In the Township of Nissouri,
+    There the hawk it came to sorrow,
+    But it strove often for to sink,
+    In vain it strove to drown the mink,
+
+    But mink it did successful balk,
+    All the attacks were made by hawk,
+    The bird was drenched, it could not fly,
+    And ne'er again it soared on high.
+
+
+
+
+LINES WRITTEN IN A MENTAL ALBUM.
+
+Where each one expressed some sentiment.
+
+
+    In this album you may trace,
+    If not the lineaments of face,
+    There at least you will find
+    Photographs of the mind.
+
+    Some in earnest some in fun,
+    Some do lecture some do pun,
+    Here the maiden and the youth,
+    Each proclaim some precious truth.
+
+    And there is here some fine pages,
+    Written by maturer ages,
+    Where they show that time is brief,
+    That soon comes sere and yellow leaf.
+
+
+
+
+EVERY ROSE HATH ITS THORN.
+
+
+    There was a maiden all forlorn,
+    She loved a youth, his name was Thorn,
+    But he was shy for to disclose
+    How he loved dear the sweet May Rose.
+
+    Lustre sweet it would give to Thorn,
+    If this fair flower would it adorn,
+    Said he all other names above
+    Your charming name alone I love.
+
+    Said she of beauty 'tis soon shorn,
+    Unless that it is joined to Thorn,
+    It very soon doth droop and die,
+    And she heaved a gentle sigh.
+
+    Said he we'll wed to-morrow morn,
+    No more from me you shall be torn,
+    For you will banish all my woes,
+    And near my heart I'll wear the rose.
+
+    Now little rose buds they are born,
+    All clinging to the parent Thorn,
+    In grace and beauty each one grows,
+    Full worthy of the sweet May Rose.
+
+    Some flowers they only shed their bloom
+    In the sweet month of leafy June,
+    But May doth bloom each month in year
+    A fragrant Rose forever dear.
+
+
+
+
+DANGER OF FIRE ARMS.
+
+
+    For to save life one great solver
+    Would be to prohibit the revolver,
+    Weapon of coward and of bully,
+    Who slaughter friends in their folly.
+
+    Let now no man or any boy,
+    With loaded arms ever toy,
+    Showing off their manly vigor,
+    Pointing to friend and pulling trigger.
+
+    And sending bullet through their brain,
+    And then exclaim in mournful strain,
+    When friends with grief they are goaded,
+    I did not know that it was loaded.
+
+    Fire arms oft' times do bring woes,
+    And they kill more friends than foes,
+    Hunting now o'er fertile fields,
+    'Tis seldom that it profit yields.
+
+
+
+
+BIRD SENT BY PROVIDENCE.
+
+
+    A poor man stood beside his door,
+    His sad fate for to deplore,
+    For landlord's heart would not relent,
+    And seized his furniture for rent.
+
+    He hears song sweet as from fairy,
+    And soon he sees a canary,
+    Into his cage it did alight
+    And poured forth notes sweet and bright.
+
+    But owner of the bird did mourn,
+    And sadly longed for its return,
+    Without it she found no delight,
+    So she did landlord's bill requite.
+
+    The poor man thinks the bird was sent
+    By the Lord to pay up his rent,
+    And he now stout maintains from thence
+    That there is a kind Providence.
+
+
+
+
+HELP IN NEED.
+
+
+    A poor man's horse it ran away,
+    Soon man upon the roadside lay,
+    With his leg all badly broken,
+    Of sympathy some gave token.
+
+    One said your trouble grieves my heart,
+    But with his money would not part,
+    Another said, while heaving sighs,
+    It brings the tears into mine eyes.
+
+    But a good true hearted man,
+    His heart with kindness it o'er ran,
+    The poorest man among the three,
+    A pound he did contribute free.
+
+    Others gave in empty feeling,
+    But this poor man he did bring healing,
+    The giver only Lord doth prize,
+    Who helps afflicted for to rise.
+
+
+
+
+O FOR A LODGE.
+
+
+    "O for a lodge in some vast wilderness"
+    A man cried out in his distress,
+    For he was tired and sick of life,
+    And weary of this worldly strife,
+    And longed for to be far away
+    From the continuous daily fray.
+
+    But the fond partner of his life,
+    His own dearest, loving wife,
+    Those sentiments did not admire,
+    For fiercely they did rouse her ire,
+    Said she, I'll never let you budge
+    To go and join another lodge,
+    Your lodges take six nights each week,
+    And still another lodge you seek,
+    Continuous abroad you'll roam,
+    And never enter your own home.
+
+
+
+
+A BIRD'S NEST.
+
+
+    An old man who had charge of field,
+    With pride he saw two birds did build,
+    A broad capacious warm nest,
+    So full of young with speckled breast,
+
+    And when the old man there did pass,
+    They soon ran merry 'mong the grass,
+    But of the youth they were so shy,
+    They made strong efforts for to fly.
+
+    Youths tried with old man to prevail,
+    To let them blaze away at quail,
+    But though they longed for a fat pot,
+    At them they never got a shot.
+
+    No more the old man doth them shield,
+    For they have flown to broader field,
+    Long may they spread their wings and tail,
+    And may no foe them 'ere assail.
+
+
+
+
+LINES ON THE FINDING OF A YOUNG MAN'S BODY IN TORONTO BAY.
+
+
+His identity was discovered by finding the maker's name on the suit he
+wore and by sending a strip of the cloth to the maker in Montreal.
+
+    A young man's body long it lay
+    In bottom of Toronto Bay,
+    But at last the waters bore,
+    And raised him up near to the shore.
+
+    But no one knew his rank or station,
+    No one knew his home or nation,
+    But his form and dress were genteel,
+    And sorrow many they did feel.
+
+    Kind man took charge of the remains,
+    And was well rewarded for his pains,
+    So skilful he did him embalm,
+    Restored the features sweet and calm.
+
+    The father came and he did bless
+    The man who did restore the face,
+    And saved for him his son's remains,
+    And thus he fame and honor gains.
+
+
+
+
+LINES ON A LAWN PARTY.
+
+Where it was announced ten days previous that the cereus would bloom,
+August, 1888.
+
+
+    We own we felt a little curious,
+    To see the rare night blooming cereus,
+    And as if 'twas divine anointed,
+    It came in bloom at the time appointed,
+    And gorgeous too their oleander,
+    None 'ere saw shrub blossom grander.
+
+
+
+
+LINES ADDRESSED TO AN OLD BACHELOR.
+
+
+    In summer time we roam o'er dingle,
+    But winter draws us round the ingle,
+    Why do you remain thus single,
+    When love would make two hearts tingle,
+    Pray, tell me why my dearest wingle,
+    With the fair you do not mingle,
+    Better with love 'neath cot of shingle,
+    Than all your yellow gold to jingle.
+
+    For married life you would enjoy,
+    And soon a little girl and boy,
+    They would your leisure hours employ,
+    At Christmas you could buy each toy,
+    And fill their little hearts with joy,
+    For their amusements never cloy,
+    Business cares do men annoy,
+    Child's happiness knows no alloy.
+
+
+
+
+LINES READ AT A LADIES' AID.
+
+
+    After chatting with each friend,
+    We our way to the table wend,
+    On it we all do make a raid,
+    And this we call a ladies' aid.
+
+    'Tis pleasant way of taking tea,
+    Improvement on the old soiree,
+    On such a time as this I find
+    Food for body and for mind.
+
+    Gladly all obey the call,
+    To attend this pleasant social,
+    And we hope none will lament
+    The time and money they have spent.
+
+
+
+
+FEMALE REVENGE.
+
+"Revenge is sweet, especially to women."--Byron.
+
+
+    I heard Bill say to-day, Mary,
+    That you are a charming fairy,
+    And that to town he'd give you drive,
+    But just as sure as you're alive,
+    He does intend to have the bliss,
+    Of stealing from your lips a kiss.
+
+    I'll let him drive me now, Jane,
+    His efforts they will all be vain,
+    I hate him, and I him defy,
+    And anger flashed from her eye,
+    The monster's wiles I will defeat,
+    Peck of strong onions I will eat.
+
+
+
+
+LINES ON A TYPEWRITER.
+
+Having received a letter from a gentleman glorying in his typewriter we
+replied as follows:
+
+
+    You glory in your typewriter,
+      And its virtues you rehearse,
+    But we prefer the old inditer,
+      For to write either prose or verse.
+
+    And let each man work his will,
+      But never never do abuse
+    The ancient and glorious quill
+      From the wing of a fine old goose.
+
+
+
+
+ALL MEN ARE BROTHERS.
+
+
+    We are in ancient stories told,
+    All were brothers in days of old,
+    But these with facts they do not chime
+    For all mankind do love the dime,
+    And worship the mighty dollar,
+    And admire the golden collar,
+    The rich man's washed with whitest lime,
+    The poor man's cover'd o'er with slime,
+    But we should try to love each other
+    And treat each man as our brother.
+
+
+
+
+THE GOOD MAN.
+
+
+    Cheerful and happy was his mood,
+    He to the poor was kind and good,
+    And he oft' times did find them food,
+    Also supplies of coal and wood,
+    He never spake a word was rude,
+    And cheer'd those did o'er sorrows brood,
+    He passed away not understood,
+    Because no poet in his lays
+    Had penned a sonnet in his praise,
+    'Tis sad, but such is world's ways.
+
+
+
+
+Humorous.
+
+
+
+
+LAY OF THE SPRING.
+
+
+    Let others sing their favourite lay,
+    From early morn till close of day,
+    More useful themes engage our pen,
+    We sing the lay of our good hen.
+
+    For she doth lay each morn an egg,
+    And it is full and large and big,
+    Abroad she doth never travel,
+    Happy she when scratching gravel.
+
+    And she loud cackles songs of praise
+    Every morn when e'er she lays,
+    Proud she is when she finds pickings
+    For to feed her brood of chickens.
+
+    It greatly puzzled her one day
+    When she found white nest egg of clay,
+    She knew some one did trick play her,
+    For she was no brick layer.
+
+    Vain and stately male bird stalks,
+    Leading his hens along the walks,
+    Proudly each feather in his tail
+    Makes rival roosters for to quail.
+
+    Our muse now soars on feathery wing,
+    And cheerful it doth hail the spring,
+    Bringing the sunshine and showers,
+    Green grass and buds and leafy bowers.
+
+    So pleasant is the month of May,
+    When bushes shoot out blooming spray,
+    'Ere spring we're tired of winter's white,
+    Spring's varied colours do delight.
+
+
+
+
+HIGH IN MASONRY.
+
+
+    Give me a board so I can trace on
+    How high I have gone as a mason,
+    Said worker on true square cut stone
+    Unto some knights of good St. John.
+
+    Each one of them could trace with ease
+    The highest Masonic degrees,
+    Tell us how high then you have gone
+    They said to worker on cut stone.
+
+    Who said to their astonishment
+    To top of Washington monument,
+    I solemnly to you declare
+    And will swear to fact upon the square.
+
+    I there stood thirty-three degrees,
+    While the mercury did freeze,
+    And none of you will have desire
+    In masonry for to go higher.
+
+
+
+
+Tales.
+
+
+
+
+TRAMP AND FISH.
+
+
+    A hungry tramp did long for dish,
+    And he stole a big bunch of fish,
+    But he full soon did come to grief,
+    He was quick captured as a thief.
+
+    And brought before the magistrate,
+    So judge he would pronounce his fate,
+    Judge asked him how he came by fish,
+    The thief said for them he did wish,
+
+    The best fish ever came from brook,
+    I own, my Lord, I did them hook,
+    Said constable, he speaks what's true,
+    And you must give the devil his due.
+
+    Then judge did constable rebuke,
+    He owns fish if he did them hook,
+    He has not broken any clause
+    I know of in our fishery laws.
+
+    Unless you can show this reason,
+    He has hooked them out of season,
+    Your duty you have thus mistook,
+    For man had right the fish to hook.
+
+    Fishing here it is not treason,
+    Him you had no right to seize on,
+    And when the poor man did fish hook,
+    He had a right the same to cook.
+
+
+
+
+SEAL FISHING AND HUNTING.
+
+
+    Where frosts doth northern bays congeal,
+    There you will find the finest seal,
+    They do pursue them o'er each bay
+    From early dawn till close of day.
+
+    The Indians display great zeal,
+    Engaged in hunting of the seal,
+    And ladies love for to display
+    Their seal furs from this famous bay.
+
+    Most precious of all furs is seal,
+    Their flesh is good as finest veal,
+    And the seal it is a squatter,
+    Lives on either land or water.
+
+    The Indian boys happy feel,
+    When they capture the young seal,
+    They do seem so happy ever,
+    Sailing o'er each bay and river.
+
+    They train them their canoes to tow,
+    And o'er the waters merry go,
+    Full quick to right or left they wheel,
+    Guided by reins the docile seal.
+
+    Like lad on colt without a saddle,
+    These youths use no oar nor paddle,
+    But swift o'er water rushes keel,
+    For 'tis propelled by the fast seal.
+
+    To Uncle Sam we do appeal,
+    How can you own the whole sea's seal,
+    And at the same time claim our cod,
+    If from the shore a mile abroad.
+
+
+
+
+SNAKE AND ITS YOUNG.
+
+
+    There is a peculiar snake,
+      You might almost call it squatter,
+    It loves to dive in pond or lake,
+      At home on either land or water.
+
+    But it excited my good dog
+      To see small snakes bask in the sun,
+    Enjoying themselves on a big log,
+      Near into where the water run.
+
+    But their mother she was watching
+      Her numerous brood on the log,
+    She thought to them was danger hatching,
+      When she beheld myself and dog.
+
+    For she gave a hissing sound,
+      All her offspring to awake,
+    She ope'd her mouth and at a bound,
+      Down her throat did rush each snake.
+
+    I scarcely my own eyes could trust,
+      To see those small snakes disappear,
+    I really thought that she would burst,
+      For the sake of her offspring dear.
+
+    But I soon hid among the brakes,
+      To view the young ones leave their prison,
+    Will you believe this tale of snakes,
+      If I did count right just four dozen.
+
+
+
+
+WHALE AND ITS FOES.
+
+
+    Six hundred miles north of Cape Flattery,
+    On sea there seemed a floating battery,
+    And stream of blood did dye the water,
+    Sailors wondered what was the matter.
+
+    But they soon saw a great sword fish
+    With its bayonet make a quick rush,
+    Into which proved to be large whale,
+    And thrasher too did it assail.
+
+    The whale dived deep to save its life,
+    But thrasher eager for the strife,
+    Knew whale must rise for to get breath,
+    Then it would thrash the whale to death.
+
+    At last the great whale it arose,
+    And in distress it spouts and blows,
+    In anger sweeps its mighty tail,
+    Defensive weapon of the whale.
+
+    But thrasher high in air did leap,
+    And fell on monster of the deep,
+    The sword fish then it did advance,
+    And assaulted it with its lance.
+
+    Thus united foes soon do prevail,
+    And quick there floated a dead whale,
+    The thrasher now victorious winner,
+    From off the whale expected dinner.
+
+    But ship's crew they secured the prize,
+    Whale bone and blubber monster size,
+    Others fought but they only reap,
+    The spoils of mammoth of the deep.
+
+
+
+
+TIGER AND ELEPHANT.
+
+
+    On Ganges banks roams the tiger,
+    And lion rules by the Niger,
+    Hunter heard shrill cry of peacocks,
+    In Indian jungles go in flocks.
+
+    And he saw tiger crouch and spring,
+    To crush a bird with beauteous wing,
+    But the tiger missed his aim,
+    And he hung his head with shame.
+
+    Then there came a mighty crush,
+    Of elephants rush through the bush,
+    The tiger cat-like crouched on ground,
+    And elephants rushed in with bound.
+
+    In front was baby elephant,
+    To crush its bones did tiger want,
+    But mother saw fierce forest ranger,
+    And she gave a cry of danger.
+
+    Leader of herd he madly rushed,
+    Resolved the tiger should be crushed,
+    But tiger strove to run away,
+    Willing to relinquish prey.
+
+    But when he found that he must fight,
+    On elephant's back he strove to light,
+    But elephant struck him with his foot,
+    And then with tusks he did him root.
+
+    So now once more must praise be sung,
+    To beasts who nobly fight for young,
+    And grateful feelings were now stirred,
+    Towards the leader of the herd.
+
+
+
+
+STRANGE LIFE PRESERVER.
+
+
+    A sailor he was swept from deck,
+    In minute he seem'd as a speck,
+    Tossing on each briny wave,
+    They feared the sea would be his grave.
+
+    Though they full quickly launched the boat,
+    They could not see where he did float,
+    He now was a long ways astern,
+    His whereabouts they could not learn.
+
+    But while he on the waves did toss,
+    He was seized by great Albatross,
+    Who had been looking round in quest
+    Of something whereon it could rest.[I]
+
+    It hover'd o'er him with its wings,
+    And its great webb feet on him clings,
+    And it tore him with its sharp beak,
+    For it was longing for some steak.
+
+    But sailor seized it by the throat,
+    And found with ease he then could float,
+    So sailor's life was saved by loss
+    Of the life of the Albatross.
+
+    The boat's crew found him none too soon,
+    For he had fallen into a swoon,
+    Him they would not have come across
+    Had they not seen the Albatross.
+
+    And thus poor Jack his life was saved,
+    For fierce rage of bird he braved,
+    Though in a faint he still did cling,
+    One arm round neck and one round wing.
+
+    For as a friend he did hug close
+    That fine large bird the Albatross,
+    Sailors row comrade back to ship,
+    Where he relates his wondrous trip.
+
+    Sailors fear that many a cross[J]
+    Will fall on crew kill Albatross,
+    This was slain in self defence,
+    And so no harm it came from thence.
+
+    "The lone Albatross incumbent on the air."
+
+[I] According to E. A. Poe the Albatross sleeps in air.
+
+[J] See Coleridge's Ancient Mariner for the calamity befell a crew for
+wantonly killing this bird.
+
+
+
+
+VIRTUES OF A DIAMOND RING.
+
+
+    Of the strange virtues of a ring,
+    In simple strains we now will sing,
+    Brave warrior of ancient France,
+    Where danger was he did advance.
+
+    But he at last was struck by ball
+    And on the battle field did fall,
+    They dug for him a shallow grave
+    And slightly cover'd warrior brave.
+
+    But his servant man with warm heart,
+    Loathed with his master thus to part,
+    So he moved soil from where he lay
+    And found a lump of lifeless clay.
+
+    He turned away in sad despair,
+    That could not be his master fair,
+    That famed brave youth of noble birth,
+    Now all stained o'er with blood and earth.
+
+    As he begins to move away
+    The moon reflects on brilliant ray,
+    From diamond ring on dead man's finger
+    The servant now doth fondly linger.
+
+    For he knows it's his master's ring,
+    And hopes to life he may him bring,
+    In finger he discovers heat
+    And hopes his heart it still may beat.
+
+    Though surgeons they pronounce him dead,
+    For long he bathes his breast and head,
+    And slowly master did restore
+    To fight more brave than he had before.
+
+    And now this tale to close we bring,
+    Of warrior saved by a ring,
+    Full oft again to fight for king,
+    His praise his countrymen they sing.
+
+
+
+
+CHILD SAVED BY DOG.
+
+
+    Johnston he is an engineer,
+    He always looks if track is clear,
+    For he hath a keen eagle eye,
+    Danger afar he doth espy.
+
+    And he hath too a warm true heart,
+    Of others woes he shares a part;
+    One day he gazed far down the line,
+    And a large dog he could define.
+
+    So eager busy on the track,
+    In mouth it seemed to lift a pack,
+    But it oftentimes did fail
+    For to raise it o'er the rail.
+
+    The engineer put on his steam
+    And he loud made his whistle scream,
+    So that the dog would take alarm
+    And thus preserve his life from harm.
+
+    This noble dog, it feared not danger,
+    Fear to him it was a stranger,
+    His mistress child he wished to save,
+    And all the danger he would brave.
+
+    His last great effort did prevail,
+    He raised it safe beyond the rail,
+    Into a snug and hollow spot,
+    A place seem'd formed for a child's cot.
+
+    This dog of noble mastiff breed,
+    For his own safety took no heed,
+    But at approaching train did bark,
+    To make them to his troubles hark.
+
+    The engineer did sad bewail,
+    To see the dog still on the rail,
+    A moment more the beast is slain,
+    Cut in two by the cruel train.
+
+    The engineer now shuts off steam
+    For to investigate the theme,
+    That caused the dog to die at post,
+    Finds to save child its life it lost.
+
+    Faithful in the cause of duty,
+    Saving life of little beauty,
+    A little darling three year old,
+    More precious than her weight in gold.
+
+    On track she wandered for to play,
+    But soon she in quiet slumber lay,
+    And all the efforts of old Towser,
+    Were not able to arouse her.
+
+    The mother now in agony wild,
+    Rushed down to train to find her child,
+    There she found it sweetly sleeping,
+    While some for faithful dog were weeping.
+
+    And a brave man was engineer,
+    For he himself knew not of fear,
+    But his heart was filled with pain,
+    Because the noble dog was slain.
+
+
+
+
+LEACH THE ENGINEER.
+
+
+    The engineer who drives the train,
+    From scalds he oft doth suffer pain,
+    And they are more noble scars,
+    Than hirelings gain in foreign wars.
+
+    Our hero's name should live forever,
+    Train wrecked in Columbia River,
+    And fatal scalded was Frank Leach,
+    In mid the river far from beach.
+
+    Heroic deed it should be sung.
+    Though his flesh in ribbons hung,
+    He saw a man who could not swim,
+    And he resolved to rescue him.
+
+    And success his efforts crowned,
+    He saved the man from being drowned,
+    For him upon his back he bore,
+    And boldly swam with him to shore.
+
+    Heroic deed we now enroll,
+    And grave it deep on fame's scroll,
+    For this great truth we wish to teach,
+    High 'mong our heroes ranks Frank Leach.
+
+    When he had but short time to live,
+    His strength and skill he both did give,
+    His poor fellow man to save,
+    From laying in a watery grave.
+
+    The heroes oft in days of old,
+    Were those who hired to fight for gold,
+    But the true heroes we revere
+    Doth fight for home and country dear.
+
+
+
+
+JACKAL AND CHILD.
+
+
+    In the great Province of Bengal,
+    The scavenger is the Jackal,
+    For it doth love each night to feast,
+    On the carrion of some beast.
+
+    The stench of which pollutes the air,
+    But to this beast 'tis sweet and fair,
+    Carcass to it is source of wealth,
+    Jackals promote the public health.
+
+    When the "Seapoys" did rebel,
+    A strange adventure child befell,
+    An English Colonel and his wife,
+    They thought still distant was the strife.
+
+    And left their little girl at home,
+    While they to distant village roam;
+    And thus saved their lives from slaughter,
+    But rebels carried off their daughter.
+
+    Their servant woman, a Hindoo,
+    They knew her to be kind and true,
+    It almost drove her crazy wild,
+    To see them dragging off the child.
+
+    The Colonel soon he doth return,
+    And in his breast fierce rage doth burn,
+    He knows the child is doomed to die,
+    But he the rebels will defy.
+
+    So quick he doth gird on his sword,
+    And asks for blessings from the Lord,
+    He puts his pistols in their case,
+    And carries with him trusty brace.
+
+    Seapoys by the river side
+    Left child to drown in rising tide,
+    But Jackal went there for water,
+    And spied the Colonel's daughter.
+
+    He knew the river soon would rise,
+    So quick he carried off the prize,
+    Though love for child he does not feel,
+    He only wants her for a meal.
+
+    He ran with her towards the south,
+    Carrying her in his broad mouth,
+    The Colonel had a strong desire
+    On this savage beast for to fire.
+
+    But from it he refrained for fear
+    The ball might strike his little dear,
+    He saw that brute was now weary
+    Running with his little dearie.
+
+    So he then quickly gave it chase,
+    And full soon then he gained the race,
+    The coward beast then dropped the child
+    And fled away in terror wild.
+
+    With joy Colonel he doth weep
+    When he finds babe is still asleep,
+    And on it neither scar nor trace
+    Can disfigure its fair face.
+
+    And now he takes it in his arms,
+    With joy and pride surveys its charms,
+    We fear that kisses did it smother
+    When he handed it to mother.
+
+
+
+
+LITTLE HERO.
+
+
+    'Mong silver hills of Nevada
+    There is many a wild bravado,
+    Who oft indulge in lawless vice,
+    And there are pearls of great price.
+
+    Rough hearts, but true at the core,
+    There is the genuine silver ore,
+    But it needs skill of the refiner
+    To find pure gems in the miner.
+
+    Far from their home two children stray,
+    Among the mountains far away,
+    The eldest of these travellers bold,
+    Jack Smith he was but six years old.
+
+    So far poor children went abroad,
+    That both at last they lost their road,
+    But their good dog the trusty Rover,
+    By scent and search doth them discover.
+
+    Their friends they search for them in vain,
+    Dark night comes on and heavy rain;
+    And savage wolves around them howl,
+    But they fear Rover's bark and growl.
+
+    On the third day the searchers hark
+    For sounds and they hear Rover's bark,
+    Joyous that boys were alive,
+    And that though feeble they survive.
+
+    Miners they left their silver ore,
+    And for more precious pearls explore,
+    And when the children they discover,
+    'Tis unbounded then their pleasure.
+
+    The eldest little hero bold
+    Had stripped his coat to keep the cold
+    From little brother three years old,
+    A worthy deed should be extolled.
+
+    From home they were many a league,
+    And weak with hunger and fatigue,
+    Each clung upon a miner's back,
+    On their way home down mountain track.
+
+
+
+
+GRAY HAIRS.
+
+
+    Once on a time a lady quarrelled
+    With the witty Douglass Jerrold,
+    Because that he had been so bold,
+    To hint that she was growing old.
+
+    She said her hair was dark 'till one day
+    She used an essence turned it gray,
+    O, yes, said he, tincture of time
+    Affects the hair in this our clime.
+
+
+
+
+GOOD SHOT.
+
+
+    At great reunion of the South,
+    Of those had faced the cannon's mouth,
+    Where each could show a glorious scar
+    He had received in the war.
+
+    And there was an artillery major,
+    Said he, I am free to wager
+    I fired the best shot in the war,
+    And fame of it was heard afar.
+
+    The Federals fired at us a shell,
+    And near our battery it fell,
+    It gave us momentary alarm,
+    But it caused us little harm.
+
+    For the fuse it ceased to burn,
+    And I resolved shell to return
+    To the same spot from whence it came,
+    I put in fuse was sure to flame.
+
+    From mortar's mouth it went forth
+    Seeking for vengeance on the North,
+    And this swift messenger from South
+    It entered their great cannon's mouth.
+
+    And blew the gun all into atoms,
+    Which left desolate many homes,
+    But North had justice on her side.
+    In truth and virtue was her pride.
+
+    And high Heaven had well decreed
+    That the poor slave he should be freed,
+    And even the South doth prosper more
+    With freedom than she did before.
+
+
+
+
+LOST SON FOUND.
+
+
+    An English ship when homeward bound,
+    Near to its port was shipwrecked found,
+    For it had struck a sunken rock,
+    And was slowly sinking from the shock.
+
+    In port they quick did man life boat,
+    Which o'er tempestuous sea did float,
+    They rescued all the crew, save one,
+    And were content with what they done.
+
+    But they had not their captain, Harry,
+    Who on the shore was forced to tarry,
+    And knew not of the disaster,
+    So crew had worked without a master.
+
+    But when he heard of the shipwreck,
+    And that a man was left on deck,
+    He quickly hurried the boat's crew
+    For to again attempt his rescue.
+
+    But earnestly his old mother,
+    Reminded him of his lost brother,
+    Perhaps drowned in foreign sea,
+    She cried, son, stay and comfort me.
+
+    But wreck they reach and rescue man,
+    And thrill of joy o'er city ran,
+    When it was found 'twas Harry's brother,
+    Had returned to comfort mother.
+
+    Thus providence rewards the brave
+    Who strive their fellow men to save,
+    The mother's griefs it did assuage,
+    And happy now is her old age.
+
+
+
+
+SHOE BLACK.
+
+
+    Gent on sidewalk held out his foot
+    While boy in gutter brushed his boot,
+    But at this time, how sad, alas,
+    An unruly horse did o'er him pass.
+
+    The child for friends he sad did lack,
+    They said he was but a shoeblack,
+    Kind hearted man the poor child bore,
+    To a soft cot in back of store.
+
+    And brought from hospital ward
+    A skilful nurse the lad to guard,
+    She often listened for his breath,
+    As he was passing the vale of death.
+
+    But, poor child, once he ope'd his eyes,
+    And he looked round in great surprise,
+    Feebly he asked, heaving a sigh,
+    Where in the world now am I.
+
+    The tender nurse bent o'er his face,
+    And said, dear boy, you're in good place,
+    She asked his name, he said it was Tom,
+    And that for long he had no home.
+
+    And since his mother was stricken dead,
+    He had not once reposed in bed,
+    And while suffering child did rack,
+    He eagerly asked will mother come back.
+
+    The nurse she gently answered, no,
+    But, to your dear mother you can go,
+    In his last sleep he had a dream,
+    Shining up boots it was his theme.
+
+    He soon awoke and called out, mother,
+    I see you and little brother,
+    Christ, I know, has me forgiven,
+    For they are beckoning me to Heaven.
+
+
+
+
+DUCK AND OYSTER.
+
+
+    Once on a time there lived a duck,
+      And by its fishing it did thrive;
+    So one day it longed to suck
+      An oyster and for one did dive.
+
+    The oyster near shore lay open,
+      The duck, its gizzard for to fill,
+    Resolved that he would pop in
+      Between the shells his sharp bill.
+
+    And then he would have glorious treat,
+      But oyster closed on it its shell,
+    And duck it got no oyster meat,
+      But worse than that the duck befell.
+
+    This oyster was so very large,
+      It held the duck's head under water,
+    And towed small oysters like a barge,
+      Each one clung to it like squatter.
+
+    Duck it died of too much moisture,
+      And it floated towards the beach,
+    And to its bill clung big oyster,
+      Sticking to it like a horse leach.
+
+    On the shore there stood a shyster,
+      Watching fat duck floating to him,
+    And the wondrous big oyster,
+      How fine it would be to stew them.
+
+    Alas the duck lost its dinner,
+      And at the same time lost its life,
+    But on it dined a hungry sinner,
+      Who did reap all the spoils of strife.
+
+    For when the duck to land did float,
+      It towed small oysters not a few,
+    For it sailed like to a boat,
+      With fat duck pie and oyster stew.
+
+    None can the poor duck's fate bewail,
+      For it reckoned without its host,
+    It strove for conquest and did fail,
+      Fighting for spoil it battle lost.
+
+    You see the wild duck did not know,
+      When it attacked the big oyster,
+    It had to fight a numerous foe,
+      Of these shell fish a whole cluster.
+
+    Borne feathers on briny billow,
+      They were full of springy down,
+    And they made a glorious pillow,
+      Where fellow he could rest his crown.
+
+    This chap he did not plow nor sow,
+      But from sea and land he did reap
+    The wealth that others caused to grow,
+      And thus he treasures up did heap.
+
+
+
+
+BABY DARLING.
+
+
+    A miner in California mine,
+      For his distant home he did repine,
+    In a far off Eastern state,
+    Where did live his own dear mate.
+
+    And one great source of all his joy,
+    His little darling baby boy,
+    One night to drive his cares away
+    To concert hall his footsteps stray.
+
+    And loud resounding o'er the hall,
+    He heard a little boy squall,
+    The sweetest music he e'er heard,
+    Sweeter far than singing bird.
+
+    For his thoughts it caused to roam,
+    To his distant eastern home,
+    Near to the mine there were no trace
+    Of baby dear or woman's face.
+
+    When violinist with his bow
+    Did make exquisite music flow,
+    The miner he did loudly bawl
+    Stop fiddle and let baby squall.
+
+    My sad heart his cries doth cheer,
+    Reminding me of my own dear,
+    For sooner I would him behold,
+    Than if I found a mine of gold.
+
+    For what are all the joys of life,
+    So far away from child and wife,
+    But few more months I will stay here
+    Then join my wife and baby dear.
+
+
+
+
+RIDING AN AVALANCHE.
+
+
+    With our Canadian snow shoes,
+    O'er snow you walk where'er you choose,
+    But on long shoes Norwegian
+    They are like narrow toboggan.
+
+    And all your movements you control
+    By the aid of a stout long pole,
+    With it you balance or propel
+    But we show now what once befell.
+
+    Two miners full of pluck and game,
+    Wished to locate a mining claim,
+    On a high steep mountain crest
+    In Colorado of the West.
+
+    Though snow was deep they would attempt
+    Their good mine for to pre-empt,
+    So up the mountain they do climb,
+    Covered o'er with snow and rime.
+
+    Norwegian shoes slide over the snow,
+    High and higher still they go,
+    One was two hundred yards ahead,
+    Till snow gives way where he doth tread.
+
+    Which quickly starts an avalanche,
+    He seizes on a stout tree branch,
+    But all in vain he rushes fast,
+    His snow shoes in the avalanche.
+
+    His friend on shoes Norwegian,
+    Like lightning down the hill he ran,
+    Or rather o'er the ice did glide
+    Down the long steep and glassy slide.
+
+    And after him the Avalanche,
+    Tearing up trees both root and branch,
+    The man on Avalanche doth yell
+    To his friend you are doing well.
+
+    With your shoes Norwegian,
+    Swifter than a toboggan,
+    Go on, go on, you'll win the race,
+    For we are slack'ning in our pace.
+
+    But, alas! poor runner feels
+    The Avalanche doth touch his heels,
+    Shall he be buried in the mass,
+    Or will the vast pile o'er him pass.
+
+    He stops quite sudden 'neath a rock,
+    It passed o'er him with mighty shock,
+    Though it did cause him great alarm,
+    Yet still he was all safe from harm.
+
+    The Avalanche yet downward slides,
+    And his friend on it he rides,
+    Until it safely him doth launch
+    On outer edge of his own ranch.
+
+    After three miles down the gulch,
+    They both might have been crushed to mulch,
+    The one he seemed to run a race,
+    While one on Avalanche did chase.
+
+    But it was not for bravado,
+    One rode, one run in Colorado,
+    For it was desperate the strife
+    Each had for to secure his life.
+
+    This tale of shoes Norwegian
+    Is not for the collegian,
+    But for such youths as do take pride
+    In reading of a wondrous slide.
+
+
+
+
+FINAL ADDRESS TO OUR PATRONS.
+
+
+To those who have so cheerfully subscribed for our poetic works at this
+early stage, and whose names have been obtained in this town, we feel
+ourselves deeply indebted, and it affords us great pleasure to record
+their names:--Dr. McKay, M.P.P.; Thomas Seldon, mayor; Joseph Gibson,
+postmaster; Dr. Williams, reeve; Walter Mills, Wm. Ewart, Thomas Brown,
+George Brown, Dr. Dickson, G. Alderson, William Watterworth, Dr.
+Canfield, James Smith, Peter Stuart, A. Grant, W. Partlo, Noxon Bros.,
+Samuel, Stephen, T. H. and W. R. Noxon, C. E. Chadwick, J. A.
+Richardson, C. Simpson, James Brady, Peter Kennedy, M. T. Buchanan, W.
+A. Sudworth, C. Kennedy, H. Brooke, A. Pearson, John R. Warnock, Evans
+Piano Company, James Kirby, Dr. Carroll, Stephen King, D. Kerr & Co, W.
+Underwood, M. Walsh, J. S. Smith, W. McBain, James McKay, John Boles, J.
+E. Boles, J. C. Norsworthy, James Stevens, Angus McLeod, G. A. Turner,
+David White, James Sinclair, A. Murdoch, W. Woolson, William Dundass,
+James Badden, W. H. Jones, A. N. Christopher, G. A. Rose, L. Thompson,
+James Chambers, J. W. Marsden, Dr. Kester, A. D. Hoagg, W. C. Bell, F.
+Richardson, H. Richardson, John Morrow, O. E. Robinson, J. F. Morrey, W.
+Thompson, W. Gibson, G. H. Sharp, W. Hook, D. Secord, N. H. Bartley, W.
+Beckes, H. D. McCarty, John Ross, J. T. Malone, James H. Noe, L. Noe, G.
+Bloor, C. Bloor, T. H. Barraclough, T. F. Fawkes, J. Stephenson, J. H.
+Berry, Paul Berry, Hault Manufacturing Co., Dr. Walker, H. E. Robinson;
+T. H. Torren, W. Briden, John Birss, David Garlick, William Noxon, W. A.
+Knox, C. R. Patience, E. H. Hugill, J. A. Young, D. I. Sutherland, D. M.
+Sutherland, W. Thompson, R. McNiven, E. Livens, E. M. Walker, H. R.
+Cotton, D. W. Augustine, R. Gemmell, C. W. Waldron, J. W. Browett, R. H.
+Young, G. F. Clark, G. F. Mason, G. R. Thompson, W. A. Sinclair, W.
+Moore, James Kay, E. Caldwell, W. Davidson, G. McBurney, John Husband,
+R. A. Skinner.
+
+Our dairy friends whose names appear on page 68 responded almost
+unanimous and the cheese buyers Messrs. Riley, Cook and Simister,
+manifested a similar spirit. To Podmore and Wilson of Grant & Co. we are
+also indebted. Several ex-wardens of the county are on our list, and
+James Sutherland, M.P., B. Hopkins, Gordon Cook, T. R. Mayberry, G.
+Walker, R. Wilson, J. C. Harris, W. Nancekivell, G. Chambers, R.
+Mayberry, Andrew Mitchell and J. H. Rowse, are among our country
+friends, and those prominent cheesemakers Ireland and Wooliever.
+
+But as the printers are awaiting this sheet we must now close this list.
+
+    Now to our friends who proved so true,
+    We bid you for short time adieu.
+
+Those who may wish to procure a copy of this book will receive one
+neatly bound in cloth, with postage prepaid thereon, by remitting us One
+Dollar.
+
+  JAMES McINTYRE,
+
+  Ingersoll, Canada.
+
+
+
+
+Index.
+
+
+                      PAGE.
+
+  Kind words From Friends, 4
+
+  Canada Before Confederation, 7
+
+  Canada's Future, 8
+
+  Birth of Canada as a Nation, 9
+
+  Welcome to the Prince of Wales, 10
+
+  Canada's Resources, 11
+
+  North-West Rebellion, 12
+
+  Big Bear the Indian Chief, 14
+
+  Laying Corner Stone of Brock's Tower, 15
+
+  Patriotic Ode, 16
+
+  Province of Ontario, 17
+
+  Canadian Rivers and Lakes, 20
+
+  United by Steel Rails, 21
+
+  Lorne and Louise, 23
+
+  Canadian Sports and Games, 24
+
+  Niagara Charms and Death of Webb, 26
+
+  Departed Canadian Statesmen, 27
+
+  The Old Snake Fence, 28
+
+  Canadian Voyageurs on the Nile, 29
+
+  Land Clearing, 30
+
+  Maple Sugar Making, 31
+
+  Canadian Romance, 32
+
+  Lament of the Maple Tree, 36
+
+  Life in the Woods, 39
+
+  Prairie Farming, 40
+
+  Canada Our Home, 41
+
+  Donald Ross, 43
+
+  Patriot Fighting for his Home, 44
+
+  Fighting for Conquest, 45
+
+
+CANADIAN AUTHORS.
+
+  Mrs. Moody, 46
+
+  T. D. McGee, 47
+
+  George Menzies, 48
+
+  Thomas Conant, 48
+
+  R. F. Gourley, 49
+
+  A. McLaughlan, 49
+
+
+ONTARIO SKETCHES.
+
+  South Ontario Sketches, 50
+
+  Holland River and its Tributaries, 51
+
+  St. Catharines, 53
+
+  Brantford, 54
+
+  Thorold, 55
+
+  St. Thomas, 56
+
+  Galt and Dunlop, 57
+
+  Tilsonburg, 57
+
+  Port Stanley, 58
+
+  Port Burwell, 58
+
+  The Banks of Canadian Thames, 59
+
+  The River Thames, 60
+
+  London Flood, 60
+
+  Loss of Steamer Victoria, 61
+
+  Woodstock, 62
+
+  Ingersoll, 63
+
+  Embro, 63
+
+  Beachville, 64
+
+  Stratford, 64
+
+  Thamesford, 65
+
+
+DAIRY SKETCHES.
+
+
+  Cheese Pioneers, 67
+
+  Cheese Factories and Salesmen, 68
+
+  Father Ranney, 69
+
+  Mammoth Cheese, 71
+
+  Lines Read at a Dairyman's Supper. 72
+
+  Hints to Cheese Makers, 73
+
+  Fertile Lands and Great Cheese, 74
+
+  Dairymaid's Social, 74
+
+  Salford Home of the Cheese, 75
+
+  Oxford Cheese Ode, 76
+
+  Windmills and Stone Stables, 77
+
+  Dairy Ode, 78
+
+  Cheese Curd for Bait, 80
+
+
+CANADIAN SKETCHES.
+
+  Thanksgiving Ode, 82
+
+  Agricultural Implements, 83
+
+  When to Sell Grain, 84
+
+  Four Acre Farm, 85
+
+  Harvest Home Festival, 86
+
+  Corner Stone Laying, 87
+
+  Credit Valley Trip, 88
+
+  Eagle and Salmon, 89
+
+  Captain's Adventure, 90
+
+  Indian Romance, 92
+
+  Canadian Hunter, 93
+
+  Fight With a Bear, 94
+
+  Origin of the Toboggan, 95
+
+  Bear and Falls, 97
+
+  Broken Raft Adventure, 99
+
+  Buffalo and Wolves, 100
+
+  Bear Hunt, 102
+
+  Coon Hunting, 103
+
+  Sailor's Yarn, 105
+
+  Hunters and Trappers, 106
+
+  Wild Goose Shot, 108
+
+  Adventures With Bears, 109
+
+
+BRITISH ODES.
+
+  Queen's Jubilee, 112
+
+  Wars in Victoria's Reign, 113
+
+  Crimean War, 115
+
+  Indian Mutiny, 115
+
+  Bear and Whale, 116
+
+  Gordon and Burnaby, 117
+
+
+ENGLISH POETS.
+
+  Shakespeare, 118
+
+  Milton, 119
+
+  Coleridge, Southey & Wordsworth, 120
+
+  Shelly, 120
+
+  Byron, 120
+
+  Tennyson, 121
+
+  Dryden and Pope, 121
+
+
+POETS AND PHILOSOPHERS.
+
+  Bacon, Hogg, Lamb & Shakespeare, 122
+
+
+IRISH POETS.
+
+  Moor, 123
+
+  Oliver Goldsmith, 124
+
+
+SCOTTISH POETS.
+
+  Burns, 125
+
+  Burns and Scott, 126
+
+  South of Scotland, 126
+
+  Scottish Poets, 127
+
+  James Hogg, 128
+
+  Highland Sketches, 129
+
+  Shires on the Moray Frith, 131
+
+  Lines Read at Embro, 132
+
+  St. Andrew's Celebration, 133
+
+  Dick and Edward, 134
+
+  Castle Gordon, 134
+
+  Prince Charlie's Grandsons, 135
+
+  St. Andrew, 136
+
+  River Clyde, 137
+
+  Elf Shot, 138
+
+  Hallowe'en, 139
+
+
+AMERICAN POETS.
+
+  Longfellow, Poe, Lowell, 140
+
+  Bryant, Whittier, Saxe, 141
+
+  Carleton, Millar, Holmes, Whitman, 142
+
+  Lofty Actors Withdraw, 142
+
+  United States, 143
+
+  Caledonia Springs, 144
+
+
+LOCAL SKETCHES.
+
+  Victoria Park and Games, 145
+
+  Ingersoll Fire, 145
+
+  Masonic Lines, 146
+
+  Oddfellowship, 147
+
+  Advice to a Little Girl, 148
+
+  In Memoriam, 149
+
+  Providential Escape, 150
+
+
+MORAL AND REFLECTIVE.
+
+  Brain Engravings, 152
+
+  Survival of the Fittest, 153
+
+  Judge by Merit, 154
+
+  Gates Ajar, 155
+
+  Child Made Happy, 156
+
+  Poetry, 157
+
+  Power of Love, 157
+
+  Her Lover's Step, 158
+
+  The Useful Weed, 159
+
+  Golden Egg, 160
+
+  Little Dora, 161
+
+  Lines on the Death of a Good Woman, 161
+
+  Fighting for Home, 162
+
+  Mental Album, 162
+
+  Every Rose Hath Its Thorn, 163
+
+  Danger of Fire Arms, 164
+
+  Kind Providence, 164
+
+  Help in Need, 165
+
+  O For a Lodge, 165
+
+  Bird's Nest, 166
+
+  Remains Found in Toronto Bay, 166
+
+  A Lawn Party, 167
+
+  Address to a Bachelor, 167
+
+  Lines Read at a Ladies' Aid, 168
+
+  Female Revenge, 168
+
+  A Typewriter, 169
+
+
+TALES, HUMOROUS AND SERIOUS.
+
+  Lay of the Spring, 170
+
+  High in Masonry, 171
+
+  Tramp and Fish, 172
+
+  Seal Hunting, 173
+
+  Snake and Her Young, 174
+
+  Whale and its Foes, 175
+
+  Tiger and Elephant, 176
+
+  Strange Life Preserver, 177
+
+  Virtues of a Diamond Ring, 178
+
+  Child Saved by Dog, 180
+
+  Leach the Engineer, 182
+
+  Jackal and Child, 183
+
+  Little Hero, 185
+
+  Gray Hairs, 186
+
+  Good Shot, 187
+
+  Lost Son Found, 188
+
+  Shoeblack's Sad Fate, 189
+
+  Duck and Oyster, 190
+
+  Baby Darling, 192
+
+  Riding an Avalanche, 193
+
+  Final Address to Our Patrons, 195
+
+
+
+
+Transcriber's Notes
+
+No changes were made, unless noted.
+
+  Page 6
+  (And you'r a poet yet.) A short version for you're.
+
+  Page 27 and 60
+  (Mingling with St. Lawrance motion,). Spelling as shown. St. Lawrence
+    in other poems.
+
+  Page 38
+  (when we used the smooth plain.). Possible typo for plane.
+
+  Page 47
+  (D Arcy McGee,). May be D'Arcy.
+
+  Page 81
+  (Which had grown from the seed). Changed whih to which.
+
+  Page 85
+  (But none e're fell in love with Ruth,). Perhaps e'er rather than
+    e're.
+  ('Tis seldom she e're feels alarm,). Same.
+
+  Page 89
+  (Wilmot of fish culutre fame,). Possible typo for culture.
+
+  Page 120
+  (The brilliant, pasionate Byron.). Possible typo for passionate.
+
+  Page 140
+  (His wierd, wonderful romances). May be weird.
+
+  Page 144
+  (Where fish are propogate by Green,). Possibly propagate.
+
+  Page 169
+  (glorying in his typewriter). Changed typewiter to typewriter.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Poems of James McIntyre, by James McIntyre
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author	Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org>	2025-10-14 20:05:02 -0700
committer	Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org>	2025-10-14 20:05:02 -0700
commit	9d1d46982b923441d6e44cc362859aff88dc3fb1 (patch)
tree	8e741c3777ec3c247b9993ba5d834b2af6b21647