The rage for writing has spread far and wide, Letters on letters now are multiplied, And every mortal, who can hold a pen, Aspires in haste to teach his fellow men. Paper in wasted reams, and seas of ink....
O thou son of the dark locks and eloquent tongue, With the brain of a statesman sagacious, and strong, And the heart of a poet, half love, and half fire, Thou hast many to love thee and more to admire;...
Do you know the town Pembroke so loyal and long And so worthy the praise of a poet in song? Nestled down by the lake shore, that ripples and shines, And hemmed in by the hills with their crowning of pines....
There's a place in the North where the bonnie broom grows, Where winding through green meadows the silver Maine flows, Every lark as it soars and sings that sweet spot knows; For the mate for whom it sings,...
I, Louis Marin, mariner, born on the Breton coast, Must pass from earth away, And, because wild remorse Pursues me--is my curse, My guilty hand this day...
Sister, sweet sister, years have passed away, Since first, 'mid warm hearts, sunny, frank and true, I commenced rhyming on thy natal day, On the green sod where Erin's shamrock grew. ...
By many a bard the Cameron clan is sung, Their march, their charge, their war cry, their array; Their laurels that from bloody fields have sprung, Where they have kept the sternest foes at bay. ...