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.
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,
For they were longing for a dish
Of this sweet and savory fish,
And they caught many, too, with bait,
For in the day it was not late,
But it was cloudy with snow storm;
Yet they saw the noble form,
While the hurricane did blow,
Of a fine, noble buffalo,
So they resolved to have a treat
Of the delicious buffalo meat;
But he did on his haunches rear—
To their surprise it was a bear.
The lake being smooth, the 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 chased one and then the other,
For men on skates did him bother.
But the bold Scottish lad, McBeath,
Alas! he nearly met his death,
When he so boldly did press near
To probe him with the sharp fish spear,
For with fell swoop the paws of bruin
To him they almost did bring ruin;
But he so dexterously did skate
That he escaped such horrid fate.
And now they skated back to fort
For aid for to renew the sport,
They knew their game was no trifle
So they secured a trusty rifle.
Returning he had fled to wood,
But they tracked him with his blood,
For they did not yet despair
But that they would capture bear.
They saw the elder bushes sway
While he did force through them his way,
And heard the brushwood loudly snap,
Where he went through he left a gap.
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,
For Indian stripped the skin of bear
And left the carcass in his lair.
Canadian Sports and Games and Plays
Burns sang of joys of Halloween
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.
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.
Niagara’s Charms and Death of Capt. 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. Lawrence motion,
It soon is blended with the ocean.
