#CanadianWriters
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,
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,
Mr. Hope Macniven, of Ingersoll,… younger days, during the first qua… century, of seeing and hearing man… men in Britain. He heard Doctor… he saw on the stage those eminent…
Lines on Caledonian games, May, 1… On grassy amphitheater Spectators sit, to view the war ‘Mong bold contestants on the plai… Where each doth strive the prize t…
Lines on the North of Scotland, d… quarter of a century ago: Scotsmen have wandered far and wid… From Moray Frith to Frith of Cly… McDonald, from his sea girt isle,
Our Canadian County Perth Commemorates great bard of earth ; Stratford and Avon both are here, And they enshrine the name Shakes… For here in Stratford every ward
Meeting of Burns and Scott in Ed… When Burns did make triumphant en… ‘Mong Edina’s famous gentry, A discussion did there arise Among those solons, learned and wi…
Gardner told a sad tale of woe, How he was oft o’erwhelmed in snow But was he frightened? no! no!! no… He onward cheerfully did go, And though that he did freeze his…
It is folly now to aim Or to seek for distant fame, But rest content if we can claim Something of a local name Oh the pleasant banks of Thame,
Addressed to Jonathan Wingle,… All those who quality do prize Must study color, taste and size And keep their dishes clean and sw… And all things round their factori…
Poor laborers, they did sad bewail… When the machine displaced the fla… Theres little work, now, with the… Since cultivators weed the rows. Labor it became more fickle
Written at the time of the disaste… ’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.
The farmers now should all adorn A few fields with sweet southern c… It is luscious, thick and tall, The beauty of the fields in fall. For it doth make best ensilage,
I laid me down one day in June; It was late—long after noon— A very sultry summer’s eve, Such times the senses oft deceive. The place was ‘neath a maple tree,
On a young girl showing me a scar… In its own place ’tis very good Always to have plenty of wood ; But, striking fair maid, that is r… And puts me in an angry mood.