Help In Need.

        A poor man's horse it ran away,
        Soon man upon the roadside lay,
        With his leg all badly broken,
        Of sympathy some gave token.

        One said your trouble grieves my heart,
        But with his money would not part,
        Another said, while heaving sighs,
        It brings the tears into mine eyes.

        But a good true hearted man,
        His heart with kindness it o'er ran,
        The poorest man among the three,
        A pound he did contribute free.

        Others gave in empty feeling,
        But this poor man he did bring healing,
        The giver only Lord doth prize,
        Who helps afflicted for to rise.

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

Big Bear The Indian Chief.

James McIntyre, Simple Poetry

Byron.

James McIntyre, Simple Poetry

Credit Valley Trip.

James McIntyre, Simple Poetry

Local Sketches.

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.

The Good Man.

        Cheerful and happy was his mood,
        He to the poor was kind and good,
        And he oft' times did find them food,
        Also supplies of coal and wood,
        He never spake a word was rude,
        And cheer'd those did o'er sorrows brood,
        He passed away not understood,
        Because no poet in his lays
        Had penned a sonnet in his praise,
        'Tis sad, but such is world's ways.

James McIntyre

The Good Samaritan

He comes from out the ages dim,
The good Samaritan;
I somehow never pictured him
A fat and jolly man;
But one whod little joy to glean,
And little coin to give,
A sad-faced man, and lank and lean,
Who found it hard to live.

His eyes were haggard in the drought,
His hair was iron-grey,
His dusty gown was patched, no doubt,
Where we patch pants to-day.
His faded turban, too, was torn,
But darned and folded neat,
And leagues of desert sand had worn
The sandals on his feet.

Hes been a fool, perhaps, and would
Have prospered had he tried,
But he was one who never could
Pass by the other side.
An honest man whom men called soft,
While laughing in their sleeves,
No doubt in business ways he oft
Had fallen amongst thiev...

Henry Lawson

Over The Hill From The Poor-House.

I, who was always counted, they say,
Rather a bad stick any way,
Splintered all over with dodges and tricks,
Known as "the worst of the Deacon's six;"
I, the truant, saucy and bold,
The one black sheep in my father's fold,
"Once on a time," as the stories say,
Went over the hill on a winter's day -
Over the hill to the poor-house.

Tom could save what twenty could earn;
But givin' was somethin' he ne'er would learn;
Isaac could half o' the Scriptur's speak -
Committed a hundred verses a week;
Never forgot, an' never slipped;
But "Honor thy father and mother" he skipped;
So over the hill to the poor-house.

As for Susan, her heart was kind
An' good - what there was of it, mind;
Nothin' too big, an' nothin' too nice,
Nothin' she w...

William McKendree Carleton

Shoe Black.

        Gent on sidewalk held out his foot
        While boy in gutter brushed his boot,
        But at this time, how sad, alas,
        An unruly horse did o'er him pass.

        The child for friends he sad did lack,
        They said he was but a shoeblack,
        Kind hearted man the poor child bore,
        To a soft cot in back of store.

        And brought from hospital ward
        A skilful nurse the lad to guard,
        She often listened for his breath,
        As he was passing the vale of death.

        But, poor child, once he ope'd his eyes,
        And he looked round in great surprise,
        Feebly he asked, heaving a sigh,
        Where in the world now am I.

        The tender nurse bent o'er his face,
     ...

James McIntyre

Effusion.

Ah, little did I think in time that's past,
By summer burnt, or numb'd by winter's blast,
Delving the ditch a livelihood to earn,
Or lumping corn out in a dusty barn;
With aching bones returning home at night,
And sitting down with weary hand to write;
Ah, little did I think, as then unknown,
Those artless rhymes I even blush'd to own
Would be one day applauded and approv'd,
By learning notic'd, and by genius lov'd.
God knows, my hopes were many, but my pain
Damp'd all the prospect which I hop'd to gain;
I hardly dar'd to hope.--Thou corner-chair,
In which I've oft slung back in deep despair,
Hadst thou expression, thou couldst easy tell
The pains and all that I have known too well:
'Twould be but sorrow's tale, yet still 'twould be
A tale of truth, and p...

John Clare

Simon Lee: The Old Huntsman

With an incident in which he was concerned
In the sweet shire of Cardigan,
Not far from pleasant Ivor-hall,
An old Man dwells, a little man,
'Tis said he once was tall.
For five-and-thirty years he lived
A running huntsman merry;
And still the centre of his cheek
Is red as a ripe cherry.
No man like him the horn could sound,
And hill and valley rang with glee
When Echo bandied, round and round
The halloo of Simon Lee.
In those proud days, he little cared
For husbandry or tillage;
To blither tasks did Simon rouse
The sleepers of the village.

He all the country could outrun,
Could leave both man and horse behind;
And often, ere the chase was done,
He reeled, and was stone-blind.
And still there's something in the world
At whic...

William Wordsworth