Beachville.

        Of Beachville, village of the plain,
        We now will sing a short refrain,
        For here the Thames doth pleasant flow,
        And charm to landscape doth bestow;
        Though river here it is not deep,
        Yet banks slope graceful up the steep,
        And from the summit of the hills
        You look down on the famed lime kilns,
        And 'tis full worthy poet's rhyme
        The whiteness of your pure white lime,
        Your glory never shall be gone
        While you have quarries of this stone,
        In influence you yet will wax
        With mills for flour and also flax.

James McIntyre

James McIntyre was a Canadian poet, most notable for his poetry concerning cheese, cheese-making, dairying, and dairy products. Often referred to as 'The Cheese Poet,' McIntyre's work is celebrated for its earnestness and unintentional humor, making him both a beloved and an infamous figure in literary circles. He emigrated from Scotland to Canada in 1851 and settled in Ingersoll, Ontario, where he became a successful businessman and community leader.

James McIntyre

Brain Engravings.

James McIntyre, Simple Poetry

Walt Whitman.

James McIntyre, Simple Poetry

Lines On The Death Of A Farmer's Wife.

James McIntyre, Simple Poetry

Lowell.

James McIntyre, Simple Poetry

English

Suggested Poems

Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.

Oliver Basselin

In the Valley of the Vire
    Still is seen an ancient mill,
With its gables quaint and queer,
    And beneath the window-sill,
            On the stone,
            These words alone:
"Oliver Basselin lived here."

Far above it, on the steep,
    Ruined stands the old Chateau;
Nothing but the donjon-keep
    Left for shelter or for show.
            Its vacant eyes
            Stare at the skies,
Stare at the valley green and deep.

Once a convent, old and brown,
    Looked, but ah! it looks no more,
From the neighboring hillside down
    On the rushing and the roar
            Of the stream
            Whose sunny gleam
Cheers the little Norman town.

In that darksome mill of stone,
    To the water's dash and din...

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Tilsonburg.

        After him who did the mills own,
        This place was called in honor Tilson;
        Bright gleaming like to a beaming star,
        Is clear waters of the Otter.

        And it doth form here a vast pond,
        Which extends for miles beyond,
        A fortune on town it will shower,
        This prodigious water power.

        No other spots to youth appear,
        Like lovely little lakes round here,
        And few small towns have fine roadway
        Lined with brick blocks like your broadway.

James McIntyre

Lines On Thamesford.

        The middle branch of Thames doth flow
        O'er pebble bed and it doth glow
        And sparkle like silver in the sun,
        As it through pasture lands doth run.

        In dam is ample water stored,
        To drive flour mills in Thamesford,
        Besides the power of the stream,
        Saw mills and flax are drove by steam.

        Our mind it doth with pleasure fill,
        To see fine brick church on each hill,
        And that substantial one of stone
        Owned by congregation of St. John.

James McIntyre

A Poet's Home

Two pretty rills do meet, and meeting make
Within one valley a large silver lake:
About whose banks the fertile mountains stood
In ages passèd bravely crowned with wood,
Which lending cold-sweet shadows gave it grace
To be accounted Cynthia's bathing-place;
And from her father Neptune's brackish court,
Fair Thetis thither often would resort,
Attended by the fishes of the sea,
Which in those sweeter waters came to plea.
There would the daughter of the Sea God dive,
And thither came the Land Nymphs every eve
To wait upon her: bringing for her brows
Rich garlands of sweet flowers and beechy boughs.
For pleasant was that pool, and near it then
Was neither rotten marsh nor boggy fen,
It was nor overgrown with boisterous sedge,
Nor grew there rudely then along ...

George Wither

The Shires On The Moray Frith.

        Worthy of either song or story
        Are the shires round frith of Moray,
        Here lies the valley of Strathspey,
        Famed for its music, lively, gay,
        Elgin cathedral's 'prentice aisle
        Is glory of that ruined pile.
        What modern chisel now could trace
        Fine sculpture of that ancient place,
        And Forres famed for Sweno's stane
        In honor of that kingly Dane,
        'Graved with warriors runes and rhymes,
        Long prior to historic times,
        For a thousand years its been forgot
        Who was victor Dane or Scot,
        It is the country of McBeth
        Where good King Duncan met his death,
        And barren heath that place of fear
        Stood witches cauldron of Shakespeare,

James McIntyre

English Names On Canadian Thames.

        England has given us the names
        To adorn Canadian Thames,
        And charms to them she has lent
        In Oxford, Middlesex and Kent,
        She Essex kisseth in her mouth,
        And Scottish names, one north, one south,
        And London now it justly claims
        'Tis capital of vale of Thames,
        And her strong castellated tower
        Doth on the river frowning lower,
        And Chatham is the river's port,
        There slaves for freedom did resort,
        And they did industrious toil,
        And now many own the soil,
        Stratford now shall be our theme,
        On Avon tributary stream,
        And its clear waters it doth launch
        Into the Thames northern branch,
        Near that substantial ston...

James McIntyre