With noiseless footstep, like the white-robed snow, The old year with closed record steals away; Record of gladness, suffering, joy, and woe, Of all that goes to make life's little day. ...
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....
In the small Village of St Joseph, below the City of Ottawa, still lives or did live very recently, an ancient couple, whole story is told in the following lines.
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;...
A withered shamrock, yet to me 'tis fair As the sweet rose to other eyes might be, Because its leaves spread in my native air, And the same land gave birth to it and me. ...
He has come and he has gone, Meeting, parting, both are o'er; And I feel the same dull pain, Aching heart and throbbing brain Coming o'er me once again...
They are but servants, say the words of scorning, As though they meant to say, we're finer clay, Yet, all the universe holds solemn warning, Against this pride in creatures of a day ...
I, an Iroquois brave, Speak from my forest grave, Where by Utawa's wave I sleep in glory. Listen, pale faces, then, Let years roll back again, While of Iroquois men I tell the story, ...
The Rev Mr Young was one stormy day visiting one of his people, an old man, who lived in great poverty in a lonely cottage a few miles from Jedsburg. He found him sitting with his Bible open upon his knees, but in outward circu...
On Jordan's banks gathered an eager crowd, The Royal city poured its dwellers out; The vintage was untouched in Ephraim; No fisher's boat from Magdala put out.