Poems of James McIntyre - LightNovelsOnl.com
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LOFTY ACTORS WITHDRAW.
As one by one the lofty actors of the age Withdraw from changing play on history's page, The act of war and peace of old and new contending For it is long 'ere there's harmonious blending.
And many a n.o.ble actor brave and bold Hath perished in the fight between the new and old, The victor and the vanquished Lincoln and Lee, The former he four million slaves set free.
The latter General fought with bravery and science, The first he on the Lord placed strong reliance, And in the justice of his cause he bade the North As grand emanc.i.p.ators they should issue forth.
And o'er great North the conquering name of Grant His mighty deeds of valour they 'ere more will chant, And now doth pa.s.s from stage this last named actor, In crus.h.i.+ng Southern slavery potent factor.
UNITED STATES.
The United States is wondrous land, Within its mighty borders grand, They are a world unto themselves, In South the Negro plows and delves.
Raising tobacco, sugar, cotton, Grapes and rice too may be gotten, The west for corn, cattle and swine, On which millions o'er the world dine.
The silver hills of Colorado, Equaled only by Nevada, And o'er the world you can't behold Aught like California's mines of gold.
To vast extent her exports reaches, Of grapes and oranges and peaches, And Florida the land of flowers Is famous for its orange bowers.
Pennsylvania's hills environ Wondrous mines of coal and iron, Great marvel of these modern days, All you require yourselves could raise.
But still Canadians are content With their own half of continent, Though Uncle Sam is most wealthy, Canada's content and healthy.
Sam and her are blood relation, Sprung alike from British nation, May peaceful odes alone be sung 'Tween people of one race and tongue.
When Canada's ten million strong, Then none will dare to do her wrong, Either as a youthful nation Or in Imperial Federation.
CALEDONIA SPRINGS, NEW YORK.
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, As it is far from sea and lake, Even the hill tops do abound With proofs here flowed the sea profound.
With reverence we gaze around On an ancient burial ground, Those who once did tread the heather Now rest quietly here together.
LOCAL SKETCHES.
On gra.s.sy amphitheatre, Spectators sit to view the war, 'Mong bold contestants on the plain Where each doth strive the prize to gain.
Come witness the great tug of war, And see great hammer thrown afar, See running, jumping, highland fling, At concert hear the skylark sing.
And the bagpipes will send thrills, Like echoes from the distant hills, And the bold sound of the pibroch, Which does resound o'er highland loch.
Young men and maids and fine old dames Will gather on the banks of Thames, And though we have a tug of war 'Twill leave no wound or deadly scar.
GREAT FIRE IN INGERSOLL, MAY, 1872.
'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.
An ancient barn near hotel stood, The joining buildings all were wood, This barn a relic of the past, There farmers' horses were made fast.
Our once fair town is now in woe, And we have had our Chicago, But soon a n.o.bler town will rise, For our town is all enterprise.
MASONIC LINES READ AT A BANQUET, 1884.
The prominent names in Masonry are Kings Solomon and Hiram and St. John.
Craft of King Hiram and St. John, They figurative work on stone, King Hiram he is the old sire And he was famous King of Tyre.
But great as King upon a throne Is the good, kind, true St. John, Cathedrals did craftsmen raise, Fills all our minds now with amaze.
No modern chisel has the power To trace such leaf, and bud, and flower, But though our structures now are rude Let us all make the mortar good.
And this injunction never spare, To have the work both plumb and square, And it must have no crack nor flaw, So masters will lay down the law.
Of all our work this is the chief, To give the needy ones relief, And with truth and brotherly love We sublime structure raise above.
The greatest honor has been won By that great builder Solomon, And craftsmen o'er the world do sing The praises of that mighty King.