Works

Doom'd, as I am, in solitude to waste
The present moments, and regret the past;
Deprived of every joy I valued most,
My friend torn from me, and my mistress lost;...

(Supposed To Be Written By Miss B***, His Sister.)

At God's command the vital spirit fled,
And thou, my Brother! slumber'st with the dead.
Alas! how art thou changed! I scarcely dare...

The war is o'er, and vict'ry crowns
Our youthful soldiers brave,
And back their homeward steps have turn'd,
Save those who found their grave;
Save those whom rebel bullets fell'd,...

Where the young lady waiters were dressed as dairymaids.

Throughout the world they do extol
The fame of our town Ingersoll,
The capital of dairyland,
To-night it seems like fairy land,...

It almost now seems all in vain
For to expect high price for grain,
Wheat is grown on Egyptian soil
On the banks of mighty Nile.

And where the Ganges it doth flow,
In India fine wheat doth grow,...

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 soiree,...

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,...

Some do boast of their pedigrees,
But Salford's parent of the cheese,
Ranney, industrious and wise,
Here started this great enterprise.

He did work on the dairy plan,...

Scotsmen have wandered far and wide
From Moray Frith to Frith of Clyde,
McDonald from his sea girt isle,
And Campbell from his broad Argyle.

But chiefly here you have come forth...

Scotia's sons to-night we meet thee,
With kindly feelings we do greet thee,
In honor of the land of heather,
Around this board to-night we gather.

Land where the fields for border edges,...

Come back to your mother, ye children, for shame,
Who have wandered like truants for riches or fame!
With a smile on her face, and a sprig in her cap,
She calls you to feast from her bountiful lap.
...

I.

The Gothic looks solemn,
The plain Doric column
Supports an old Bishop and Crosier;
The mouldering arch,
Shaded o'er by a larch
Stands next door to Wilson the Hosier.

II.
...

Go, faithless bloom! on Delia's cheek
Your boasted captivations try;
Alas! o'er Nature would you seek
To gain one moment's victory?
Her softer tint, sweet look, and gentle air,...

Bless'd be thy slumbers, little love!
Unconscious of the ills so near;
May no rude noise thy dreams remote,
Or prompt the artless early tear; -

For she who gave thee life is gone,...

Your book I've read: I would that I had not!
For what instruction, pleasure, have I got?
Amid that artful labyrinth of doubt
Long, long I wander'd, striving to get out;...

Alas, good friend, what profit can you see
In hating such a hateless thing as me?
There is no sport in hate where all the rage
Is on one side: in vain would you assuage
Your frowns upon an unresisting smile,...

Written during a severe Winter.


Why, trembling, silent, wand'rer! why,
From me and Pity do you fly?
Your little heart against your plumes
Beats hard - ah! dreary are these glooms!...

Sweet guardian of the rosy cheek!
Whene'er to thee I raise my hands
Upon the mountain's breezy peak,
Or on the yellow winding sands,

If thou hast deign'd, by Pity mov'd,...

Once, for a palace, Painting left her grove,
And taught her royal fav'rite's hand to trace
A beauteous maiden's tale of little Love,
His silken wings, soft limbs, and laughing face!
...

He who of Rankine sang lies stiff and dead,
And a green grassy hillock hides his head;
Alas! alas! a devilish change indeed.