Ensilage.

        The farmers now should all adorn
        A few fields with sweet southern corn,
        It is luscious, thick and tall,
        The beauty of the fields in fall.

        For it doth make best ensilage,
        For those in dairying engage,
        It makes the milk in streams to flow,
        Where dairymen have a good silo.

        The cow is a happy rover
        O'er the fields of blooming clover,
        Of it she is a fond lover,
        And it makes milk pails run over.

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

Leach The Engineer.

James McIntyre, Simple Poetry

Queen's Jubilee Ode, 1887.

James McIntyre, Simple Poetry

Canadian Hunter.

James McIntyre, Simple Poetry

Lines On A Fountain.

James McIntyre, Simple Poetry

English

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Dairy Odes.

        The sweet milkmaid of early days
        Her own household she ably sways,
        And her daughters now milk the cows,
        And her sons they now guide the plows.

        These pleasing changes on a farm
        Doth give to rural life a charm,
        Let occupation none upbraid,
        But honor plowman and milkmaid.

        For Burns with glory did endow
        And wove a garland round the plow,
        The source from which all wealth doth spring
        And happiness to all doth bring.

        Our muse it doth refuse to sing
        Of cheese made early in the spring,
        When cows give milk from spring fodder
        You cannot make a good cheddar.

        The quality is often vile
        Of cheese that is ...

James McIntyre

Lines Read At A Dairymen's Supper.

        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,
        And price of labor is so cheap
        That it they can successful reap.

        Then let the farmers justly prize
        The cows for land they fertilize,
        And let us all with songs and glees
        Invoke success into the cheese.

James McIntyre

Lines Read at a Parsonage Opening at the Village where Ranney had once flourished, 1883.

        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,
        While Farrington was factoryman,
        Both of these men it well did please
        To hear of progress making cheese.

        The farmers are in cheerful mood,
        For harvest all it has been good,
        And all the grain was sown this spring
        An abundant yield will bring.

        And you can scarcely stow away
        The yield of barley, oats and hay,
        Such pasture it is seldom seen,
        E'en now it is so fresh and green.

        This beauteous colour nature decks,
        While it insures yo...

James McIntyre

Harvest

        Cows in the stall and sheep in the fold;
        Clouds in the west, deep crimson and gold;
            A heron's far flight to a roost somewhere;
            The twitter of killdees keen in the air;
        The noise of a wagon that jolts through the gloam
            On the last load home.

        There are lights in the windows; a blue spire of smoke
        Climbs from the grange grove of elm and oak.
            The smell of the Earth, where the night pours to her
            Its dewy libation, is sweeter than myrrh,
        And an incense to Toil is the smell of the loam
            On the last load home.

John Charles McNeill

The Vale Of Thames.

        In vale of Thames oft' times are seen
        The cattle graze 'mong sweetest green,
        Or there contented with their fate
        The gentle cows do ruminate.

        And enjoy a double pleasure
        In re-chewing hidden treasure,
        The cow is a kindly creature,
        Kind and pleasant in each feature.

        About her is a homely charm,
        And her the dog should not alarm,
        But let all safe guard her from harm,
        The gentlest creature on the farm.

James McIntyre

A Full Harvest.

    Seems like a feller'd ort 'o jes' to-day
    Git down and roll and waller, don't you know,
        In that-air stubble, and flop up and crow,
    Seein' sich craps!    I'll undertake to say
    There're no wheat's ever turned out thataway
        Afore this season! - Folks is keerless tho',
        And too fergitful - 'caze we'd ort 'o show
    More thankfulness! - Jes' looky hyonder, hey? -
        And watch that little reaper wadin' thue
    That last old yaller hunk o' harvest-ground -
        Jes' natchur'ly a-slicin' it in-two
    Like honey-comb, and gaumin' it around
        The field - like it had nothin' else to do
        On'y jes' waste it all on me and you!

James Whitcomb Riley