Lines Sent To Thomas Conant Of Oshawa, A Writer Of Canadian Sketches

        We do greet thee Thomas Conant,
            You truthful paint Canadian charms,
        And you are the great exponent
            Of beauties of her woods and farms.

        You give fine sketch of bird and fowl,
            Of the blue jay and the plover,
        And of great white Canadian owl,
            All proves of nature you're a lover.

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

English Poets.

James McIntyre, Simple Poetry

Tennyson.

James McIntyre, Simple Poetry

Patriot Fighting For His Home.

James McIntyre, Simple Poetry

The Good Man.

James McIntyre, Simple Poetry

English

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Prologue To South Ontario Sketches.

The district lying South of Georgian Bay and Lake Simcoe, including Toronto.


        My friends we sing Canadian themes,
            For in them we proudly glory,
        Her lakes and rivers and her streams,
            Worthy of renown in story;
        And in these leaves we hope is strewn
            Some wheat among the chaff,
        And maple boughs by rude axe hewn,
            Where one may find a rustic staff;
        To help him o'er the rugged lines
            If he to weariness inclines.
        Some see no beauties near to home,
            But do admire the distant far,
        They always love abroad to roam,
            View glory in but far off star;
        But let it never be forgot
            That distant hills when closer se...

James McIntyre

Lines Sent To Alexander Mclaughlan, Amaranth Station, With A Copy Of My Poems

        We send to you these rugged rhymes
        In memory of the olden times,
        Great chief of our poetic clan,
        Admired by all, McLaughlan.

James McIntyre

Brantford.

In these sketches of towns in Southern Ontario we are not vain enough to suppose that because we have produced some lines thereon that said rhymes are poetry. If we furnish an occasional poetic gleam like a dewdrop sparkling in the sun, it is all we dare hope for.


        Brantford as thriving city's famed,
        And after Indian Chief is named,
        And here the sparkling Grand River
        It doth flow a joy forever.

        Campbell he sang a dismal tale
        Of horrors of Wyoming's vale,
        The tale one's mind doth ever haunt,
        The cruelties of monster Brant.

        But the Chief's son to England went
        And Campbell to him did lament,
        And all the tale he did recant
        About cruel butcheries of Brant.

...

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

Canada Our Home, 1883.

The following response to Canada our home was given at a banquet of the Caledonian Society, Ingersoll:

In responding to the sentiment Canada our home perhaps it would be appropriate to point out the prominent and distinguishing characteristics between the land of our nativity and the land of our adoption. In this Canada of ours we have no bonny blooming heath, no banks and braes covered o'er with daisies and gowans, no fragrant hedges showering down white spray in the May time, no whin and broom prodigal in their gaiety of yellow flowers, no hills nor glens where fairies gambol in pleasant and harmless sport, no grand ruins of ancient cathedrals and castles, no feathered songsters like the mavis and blackbird.

        Full oft we did enraptured hark
        To heavenly song of the skylark.

But Canada ...

James McIntyre

Lines On Thorold.

McCready, the great Irish tragedian, said that the view from Thorold was the finest in America.


        Thorold is famous for its mills,
        And the grand view from off its hills,
        A view so charming and extended,
        Nature's beauties sweetly blended.

        Poetic thoughts it doth awake
        To view Ontario's broad lake,
        And husbandmen have their reward in
        Fruits of this Provincial garden.

        For from the hill you see below
        Gardens where choice fruits do grow,
        The landscape all within your reach
        Doth both produce the grape and peach.

        McCready said in the New World
        The finest view was from Thorold,
        You see St. Catharines thriving town
        ...

James McIntyre