Poetry

old English names,
Beginning first with the Woodstock.

England’s Woodstock had a palace
None was raised up grander, stronger;
Canadian Woodstock without malice,
We may say your streets by far the longer.25

Yet you are Oxford’s County Town,
And can boast a fine new college,
Which with old age may some day frown,
Like Old England’s seat of knowledge

The next in order we enroll
Is Westminster and Middlesex,
With London for it capitol⁠—
These names a Cockney do perplex.

Each familiar name doth greet thee!
Its bridges, markets, and its halls;
All things in the Forest City
Bears English names, even to St. Pauls’.

The next in order we do trace,
Is Chatham⁠—once a famed resort⁠—
For there the bloodhound dared not chase,
Nor tear good colored men from sport.

And now our verse draws to a close,
Because beyond the County Kent
The Thames by name no longer flows,
But in the lake it finds a vent.

The People All Say and Declare It Is True

The people all say and declare it is true,
The best furniture is made of McIntyre’s glue.

Lines on Gunn

Lines on receiving an announcement by card that Mr. Gunn had assumed the control of the Courier.

My dear friend Gunn,
May you prize won,
But to us hark
When you shoot mark,

High you must aim
And at right game,
And truth employ
Wrong to destroy.

Your friend the Bard
Hopes your reward
Will be furriore
For Courier.

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 Hindu,
Now they respect the Christian laws
For fear of British Lion’s paws.

A Modern Wonder

Campbell’s Block

Owing to the peculiar slant in our front glass the strange optical illusion described below was witnessed until the window was curtained:

You may look but look in vain
For stores with such immense pane;
All other shops they do surpass
With their enormous lights of glass.

One night by chance through them we gazed
But we did quickly stand amazed;
Three moons they did beauteous glow,
And gleams so lovely they did throw.

But a still more wond’rous story:
Mid day showed three suns in glory;
At the sight we scarce could gaze,
So full of brilliancy the rays.

We had to curtain off the glory;
If you don’t believe this wond’rous story
Ask Editor of the Tribune
About this tale of sun and moon.

Which did bewilder McIntyre
Gazing on mighty orbs of fire;
Eclipsing the electric light
So brilliant in their glorious might.

Luminaries no more invade,
Excluded now by window shade;
Pray think that this is no intrusion,
This tale of optical illusion.

Electric Light

Suggested by the brilliant display at Toronto, September, 1884.

When the great Bulwer’s pen did trace
The history of the coming race
His hero to us he hath unfurled
The glories of his new found world.

This bold traveller be did venture
Far below our world’s centre;
He entered through an ancient mine
And to us doth new world define.

Once all was discord and fierce jars,
Continuous engaged in wars
Till they discovered great vrill power,
Then wars did cease from that same hour.

Mighty bolts from it were hurled;
Would soon have laid waste the world;
So for world’s preservation
At once they stopped desolation.

All wars by them are now despised
Unfit for nation civilized;
Their peaceful glories they do sing
And fly on artificial wing.

Great blazing artificial light
It ever burns both day and night,
For they have neither sun nor moon,
But radiant, always ’tis high noon.

When we beheld the glorious sight,
High in the air did shine so bright;
It seemed that it could banish night,
Great refulgent electric light.

But after all, ’tis children’s play,
Compared with the great orb of day,
Or when the moon it doth shine bright,
And stars do beautify the night.

Witch Stone

At Forres is a large round stone,
A relic of the days by gone;
For here there were two witches burned,
Underneath their ashes urned.

A man with veneration small
Broke stone and built it in his wall,
But the authorities of town
Made him full quickly pull them down.

Replace each piece, and it environ
With large bars of good Scottish iron;
May fine old town thrive and adorn
The beauteous banks of the Findhorn.

Dick and Edward

The Thurso baker Robert Dick26
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,27
Who now does rank among the first
In the world as naturalist.

Questions and Answers

Are you a mason? No; I prefer
To work at the trade of carpenter.
Are you then an Oddfellow?
No; I married Annabella.

Are you a Son of Temperance?
No; I am son of Joseph Vance.
Are you then a Forrester?
No; town life I prefer.

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 soirée,
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.

The matron and the comely maid
And youths attend the Ladies’ Aid;
But now we close our short refrain,
And hope to meet you all again.

Salford Parsonage

Lines delivered at housewarming of Salford Parsonage.

Your pastor’s fame first got abroad
By his success on Culloden Road;
He filled the church so that the fold
No longer it the flock would hold.

But soon a larger church did rise,
With fine neat tower points to the skies;
When you o’erwhelmed with ruin dire
Did lose your parsonage by fire.

To his call with generous bounty
You built best parsonage in county,
But some good people in the town
At this idea they might frown.

Unless we made this correction:
The best in a rural section;
Your pastor he doth vigorous push,
He’s not afraid to enter bush.

And ’tis a fact there’s very few
With him can stick of timber hew;
Ready for to superintend,
Or a helping hand to lend.

When