Poems of James McIntyre Part 4

NIAGARA'S CHARMS AND DEATH OF 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 G.o.d, For lavis.h.i.+ng 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 circ.u.mference, This is the favorite abode Of Neptune, mightiest sea G.o.d, 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 sh.o.r.es of Thousand Isles, Mingling with St. Lawrance motion, It soon is blended with the ocean.

DEPARTED STATESMEN.

With a glance at Sir John A. Macdonald and Blake, the two living leaders, 1884.

Joseph Howe, none higher stood than thou, Thou wert a man with lofty brow; D'Arcy McGee, so brilliant and free, From green isle you came o'er the sea.

George Cartier to the French ever dear, So high you stood without a peer; John Sandfield for long you did build Power under economy's s.h.i.+eld.

George Brown, thou man of renown, Confederation you did crown; You now are all free from the strife The wrangle and jangle of political life.

But if a glance at this world you take You will there see John A. and Blake, But Sir John the greatest power doth wield, Our Canadian Beaconsfield.

THE OLD SNAKE FENCE.

In early times the pioneer When a few acres he did clear, He found 'an ample recompense For splitting rails and making fence.

Though it was crooked as a snake, And zigzag style did not awake, He thought it was a thing of beauty, Yet in its day it did its duty.

And though the old snake fence must fall, 'Twas easy made, axe, wedge and maul, Were all the tools the pioneer Required the old rail fence to rear.

And the old pioneer could boast Of fence that did not need a post, To build it now is waste of timber, And fertile lands it doth c.u.mber.

And pine stump fence with its sharp roots Will long endure and ward off brutes, For the crops they ample s.h.i.+eld And do protect each separate field.

But old style fence doth waste much land, Where weeds do grow and bush expand, And thistle down doth blow from thence, So folks build wire and the board fence.

CANADIAN VOYAGEURS ON THE NILE.

The British soldiers on the Nile With grat.i.tude did kindly smile, On the Canadian voyageurs Who skilfully did ply their oars.

And they invoked their benison On boatsmen led by Denison, Neither the rapids nor the falls Along the Nile these braves appals.

For in such toils they did partake, On each native stream and lake, Thoughts of their homes in visions throng, While singing Canadian boat song.

And they all hoped again to see The glorious land of maple tree, From their memories they never Forgot the land of lake and river.

While up the Nile they do advance They dream about their own St. Lawrence, And Manitoba's streams and lakes, Pleasant reflections oft awakes.

And thus each day they cheerful toil, Ascending of old Father Nile, Whose waters fertilize the soil, And is the home of crocodile.

Wolseley he had exhibition In Red River expedition, How these voyageurs could steer, Or with the axe a roadway clear.

Those who speak the tongue of France, From the banks of the St. Lawrence, At call to arms quick advance, With rifle, bayonet and lance.

LAND CLEARING.

The first winter which I did spend In Canada was with a friend, And when the snow had pa.s.sed away Quite early in the month of May.

Friend started off for a barn raising, And told me to get stumps ablazing, Around each stump I heaped a pile Of roots and junks of wood so vile.

For he wished the field to clear So it a crop of wheat would rear, And there was one high withered pine Which was full of turpentine.

As soon as I applied the torch, Blaze quick did start and it did scorch The fences, and the woods were nigh, For the old tree it blazed on high.

I was the only man or boy Near there that day and found employ In saving of the house and barn, Thus early fire fiend did me warn.

Fire started and with it a breeze Carried the sparks 'mong leaves of trees, I did work hard but for recompense All was saved but a few rails of fence.

Man in spring logging oft awakes From winter slumbers nests of snakes, And listens to the music grand Of bull frogs, our Canadian band.

LINES READ AT A MAPLE SUGAR SOCIAL, APRIL, 1888.

Our first Canadian job when boy, In the big woods we did enjoy, Large maple bush we then did tap And to camp carried maple sap.

We stored it in great wooden trough, Then in big kettles sugared off, Though often it did try our mettle To keep up fire beneath each kettle.

For it was a serious toil To cut the wood to kettles boil, To-night it is a pleasant joke, No trouble from the fire and smoke.

Of old we thought our neck was broke By having on it a neckyoke, And on each side a heavy pail Suspended from the yoke by bail.