Poems of James McIntyre

Part 3

Chapter 33,953 wordsPublic domain

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.