Life In The Woods.

(Life of the early settlers.)


        Canada hath wealthy yeomen
        Whose fathers overcome the foemen,
        The enemy they boldly slew
        Was mighty forests they did hew,
        And where they burned heaps of slain
        Their sons now reap the golden grain,
        But in the region of Northwest
        With prairie farms they are blest.
        Though this to them it may seem good
        Yet many blessings come from wood,
        It shelters you from the fierce storm
        And in the winter keeps you warm,
        For one who hath his forest trees
        He builds his house and barn with ease,
        And how quick he gets from thence
        Timber for bridge and for his fence.

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

Niagara's Charms And Death Of Webb.

James McIntyre, Simple Poetry

English Names On Canadian Thames.

James McIntyre, Simple Poetry

Ode On The Mammoth Cheese.

James McIntyre, Simple Poetry

English

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Canadian Romance.

        An English youth to Canada came,
        A labourer, John Roe by name,
        His little wealth had made him bold,
        Twenty sovereigns in gold;
        He was industrious and wise
        And e'en small sums did not despise,
        He added to his wealth each year
        For independence he loved dear,
        He knew a laborer he would be
        Forever in the old country,
        His forefathers had tilled the ground
        And never one had saved a pound.
        On beds of down they did not lie
        And frugally their goods did buy,
        Their one luxury around their door
        A few choice flowers their garden bore,
        But never hoped to own the soil
        But serve as hinds to sweat and toil,
        To work an...

James McIntyre

Land Clearing.

        The first winter which I did spend
        In Canada was with a friend,
        And when the snow had passed away
        Quite early in the month of May.

        Friend started off for a barn raising,
        And told me to get stumps ablazing,
        Around each stump I heaped a pile
        Of roots and junks of wood so vile.

        For he wished the field to clear
        So it a crop of wheat would rear,
        And there was one high withered pine
        Which was full of turpentine.

        As soon as I applied the torch,
        Blaze quick did start and it did scorch
        The fences, and the woods were nigh,
        For the old tree it blazed on high.

        I was the only man or boy
        Near there that ...

James McIntyre

The Joys Of Prairie Farmers 1884.

        We let Ontario farmers sing
        About the joys the woods do bring,
        But we in regions of Northwest
        Do think prairie farms the best,
        For those poor men who swing the axe
        On their strength 'tis a heavy tax,
        For several years they naught can grow
        While from the first we plow and sow,
        And while we plow we don't get thumps
        By running it against the stumps,
        And where wild Buffalo now doth feed
        There very soon they'll sow the seed,
        Where Indian wigwams now do stand
        Will be the site of cities grand,
        And where the deer and wolf doth roam
        Millions will build each happy home,
        So quick as if by magic wand
        They will arise o'er the ...

James McIntyre

In A Wood

See "THE WOODLANDERS"



Pale beech and pine-tree blue,
Set in one clay,
Bough to bough cannot you
Bide out your day?
When the rains skim and skip,
Why mar sweet comradeship,
Blighting with poison-drip
Neighbourly spray?

Heart-halt and spirit-lame,
City-opprest,
Unto this wood I came
As to a nest;
Dreaming that sylvan peace
Offered the harrowed ease
Nature a soft release
From men's unrest.

But, having entered in,
Great growths and small
Show them to men akin -
Combatants all!
Sycamore shoulders oak,
Bines the slim sapling yoke,
Ivy-spun halters choke
Elms stout and tall.

Touches from ash, O wych,
Sting you like scorn!
You, too, brave hollies, twitch
Sidelong from thorn...

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Ode To The Woods And Forests. By One Of The Board.

Let other bards to groves repair,
    Where linnets strain their tuneful throats;
Mine be the Woods and Forests where
    The Treasury pours its sweeter notes.

No whispering winds have charms for me,
    Nor zephyr's balmy sighs I ask;
To raise the wind for Royalty
    Be all our Sylvan zephyr's task!

And 'stead of crystal brooks and floods,
    And all such vulgar irrigation,
Let Gallic rhino thro' our Woods
    Divert its "course of liquidation."

Ah, surely, Vergil knew full well
    What Woods and Forests ought to be,
When sly, he introduced in hell
    His guinea-plant, his bullion-tree;^[1]--

Nor see I why, some future day,
    When short of cash, we should not send
Our Herries down--he knows the w...

Thomas Moore

Harvest Home Festival.

        In summer time it doth seem good
        To seek the shade of the green wood,
        For it doth banish all our care
        When we gaze on scene so fair.

        And birds do here in branches sing
        So merrily in early spring,
        And lovingly they here do pair
        Their mutual joys together share.

        Here nature's charming, never rude,
        Inspiring all with happy mood,
        Tables had choice fruits of season,
        And we too had feast of reason.

        To dinner table all did march
        Through evergreen triumphal arch,
        On top the Union Jack it floats,
        On each side sheaves of wheat and oats.

        Great pumpkins and big ears of corn,
        They do this rural arch ado...

James McIntyre