James McIntyre

        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.
        ...

        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.

        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,

        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,
        F...

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 ...

        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 ou...

        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 yiel...

        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.

        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,
...

        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.

        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 an...

        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 s...

        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. La...

        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 foreve...

        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.

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 m...

        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,
        An...

        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,
        ...