Fighting For Home.

        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.

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

Hints To Cheese Makers.

James McIntyre, Simple Poetry

Galt And Dunlop.

James McIntyre, Simple Poetry

Irish Poets.

James McIntyre, Simple Poetry

Lines On Thorold.

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.

A Bird's Nest.

        An old man who had charge of field,
        With pride he saw two birds did build,
        A broad capacious warm nest,
        So full of young with speckled breast,

        And when the old man there did pass,
        They soon ran merry 'mong the grass,
        But of the youth they were so shy,
        They made strong efforts for to fly.

        Youths tried with old man to prevail,
        To let them blaze away at quail,
        But though they longed for a fat pot,
        At them they never got a shot.

        No more the old man doth them shield,
        For they have flown to broader field,
        Long may they spread their wings and tail,
        And may no foe them 'ere assail.

James McIntyre

Eagle And Salmon.

        Wilmot of fish culutre fame,
        To this tale he lends his name,
        A pair of eagles built their nest
        On a lofty pine tree's crest.

        And therein they regular rear
        A brood of young year after year,
        One day he saw one leave its nest,
        When for food it was in quest.

        It did wing its flight on high,
        And then on water cast its eye,
        When it quickly did discover
        A great salmon in the river.

        Like lightning flash down it doth sweep
        And its talons it buries deep,
        In salmon of enormous size
        He trys to rise in air with prize.

        But all in vain he quickly found
        He could not carry thirty pound,
        And had ...

James McIntyre

Feathers And Moss.

The marten flew to the finch's nest,
    Feathers, and moss, and a wisp of hay:
"The arrow it sped to thy brown mate's breast;
    Low in the broom is thy mate to-day."

"Liest thou low, love? low in the broom?
    Feathers and moss, and a wisp of hay,
Warm the white eggs till I learn his doom."
    She beateth her wings, and away, away.

"Ah, my sweet singer, thy days are told
    (Feathers and moss, and a wisp of hay)!
Thine eyes are dim, and the eggs grow cold.
    O mournful morrow! O dark to-day!"

The finch flew back to her cold, cold nest,
    Feathers and moss, and a wisp of hay,
Mine is the trouble that rent her breast,
    And home is silent, and love is clay.

Jean Ingelow

My Aviary

Through my north window, in the wintry weather, -
My airy oriel on the river shore, -
I watch the sea-fowl as they flock together
Where late the boatman flashed his dripping oar.

The gull, high floating, like a sloop unladen,
Lets the loose water waft him as it will;
The duck, round-breasted as a rustic maiden,
Paddles and plunges, busy, busy still.

I see the solemn gulls in council sitting
On some broad ice-floe pondering long and late,
While overhead the home-bound ducks are flitting,
And leave the tardy conclave in debate,

Those weighty questions in their breasts revolving
Whose deeper meaning science never learns,
Till at some reverend elder's look dissolving,
The speechless senate silently adjourns.

But when along the waves the shr...

Oliver Wendell Holmes

Captain's Adventure.

        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...

James McIntyre

Bear Hunt.

        Two youths came over from York state,
        Bill Brown and Tom Dawes his mate,
        For many months they were wishing
        The sport of hunting and of fishing.

        They rowed along the lake in punt,
        When tired of fishing they would hunt,
        At river's mouth they caught fine trout,
        In woods close by they saw bear's snout.

        In front of her play little chubs,
        Fat and slick her darling cubs,
        Kind thoughts in their breasts they smother
        And cruelly they shoot the mother.

        And bullet fearful tore her jaws,
        A bloody wound, but with her paws,
        Erect in air an awful sight,
        She was prepared for her young to fight.

        But this did not daunt bo...

James McIntyre