Eagle And Salmon.

        Strange incidents do happen ever
        On the famed Niagara river,
        This thought to mind it now recalls
        Event three miles above the falls.

        Thrilling ventures there abound,
        A bear which weighed eight hundred pounds,
        Hunters they do him discover
        As he was swimming down the river.

        They felt he would be glorious prize
        This grand fat bear of mighty size,
        Three men they jump'd into canoe,
        A skilful and determined crew.

        Soon alongside of him they row,
        But kindly feelings he doth show,
        Quick he scrambled o'er the boat side
        For to enjoy a good boat ride.

        And as o'er the side he straddles
        They hit him on he...

        Three years ago my vessel lay
        In a port of Hudson Bay,
        I started off for the trading post,
        But on the way back I then got lost.

        And the thought soon gave me the blues,
        Trudging along on my snow shoes,
        Over the wastes of drifting snow,
        While the wind it did fiercely blow.

        I feared that I would be froze hard,
        For it was a fearful blizzard,
        I was growing faint and weary,
        Not the slightest hopes to cheer me.

        Without compass to bearing,
        My yells were beyond crews' hearing,
        But at last to my loud halloo
        There came a mournful ho, ho.

        From creature white I thought 'twas ghost,
        And that I was foreve...

The eyrie clung to the shattered cliff
    That the glacier's torrent thundered under;
And the unfledged eaglet's lifted eye
Looked out on the world of peak and sky
            In silent wonder.

The mountain daisy, dainty white,
    That grew by the side of the lofty eyrie,
Saw the young wings beat on the eagle's breast,
And the restless eyes in the fagot-nest
            Grow grim and fiery.

The days went by and the wings grew strong,
    And the crag-built home was at last deserted;
But, close to the nest that her love had left,
The daisy clung to the rocky cleft,
            Half broken-hearted.

The days went by and the wan, white flower
    Waited and watched in the autumn weather;
Far down the valley, far up the height,
The for...

        A hawk while soaring on the wing,
        O'er a tiny sparkling spring,
        Beheld a sleek and beauteous mink,
        Was enjoying a bath and drink.

        And though the hawk was bent on slaughter
        The mink was more at home on water,
        And it is strange this curious quarrel
        All occurred in a sunk barrel.

        In the Township of Nissouri,
        There the hawk it came to sorrow,
        But it strove often for to sink,
        In vain it strove to drown the mink,

        But mink it did successful balk,
        All the attacks were made by hawk,
        The bird was drenched, it could not fly,
        And ne'er again it soared on high.

On the far hill the cloud of thunder grew
And sunlight blurred below; but sultry blue
Burned yet on the valley water where it hoards
Behind the miller's elmen floodgate boards,
And there the wasps, that lodge them ill-concealed
In the vole's empty house, still drove afield
To plunder touchwood from old crippled trees
And build their young ones their hutched nurseries;
Still creaked the grasshoppers' rasping unison
Nor had the whisper through the tansies run
Nor weather-wisest bird gone home.
                How then
Should wry eels in the pebbled shallows ken
Lightning coming? troubled up they stole
To the deep-shadowed sullen water-hole,
Among whose warty snags the quaint perch lair.
As cunning stole the boy to angle there,
Muffling least tread, with no ...

One morning when Spring was in her teens,
    A morn to a poet's wishing,
All tinted in delicate pinks and greens,
    Miss Bessie and I went fishing.

I in my rough and easy clothes,
    With my face at the sun-tan's mercy;
She with her hat tipped down to her nose,
    And her nose tipped, vice versa.

I with my rod, my reel, and my hooks,
    And a hamper for lunching recesses;
She with the bait of her comely looks,
    And the seine of her golden tresses.

So we sat us down on the sunny dike,
    Where the white pond-lilies teeter,
And I went to fishing like quaint old Ike,
    And she like Simon Peter.

All the noon I lay in the light of her eyes,
    And dreamily watched and waited,
But the fish were cunning and would ...