Seal Fishing And Hunting.

        Where frosts doth northern bays congeal,
        There you will find the finest seal,
        They do pursue them o'er each bay
        From early dawn till close of day.

        The Indians display great zeal,
        Engaged in hunting of the seal,
        And ladies love for to display
        Their seal furs from this famous bay.

        Most precious of all furs is seal,
        Their flesh is good as finest veal,
        And the seal it is a squatter,
        Lives on either land or water.

        The Indian boys happy feel,
        When they capture the young seal,
        They do seem so happy ever,
        Sailing o'er each bay and river.

        They train them their canoes to tow,
        And o'er the waters merry go,
        Full quick to right or left they wheel,
        Guided by reins the docile seal.

        Like lad on colt without a saddle,
        These youths use no oar nor paddle,
        But swift o'er water rushes keel,
        For 'tis propelled by the fast seal.

        To Uncle Sam we do appeal,
        How can you own the whole sea's seal,
        And at the same time claim our cod,
        If from the shore a mile abroad.

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

American Poets.

James McIntyre, Simple Poetry

James Hogg.

James McIntyre, Simple Poetry

London Flood, July 11th, 1883.

James McIntyre, Simple Poetry

Lines Written In A Mental Album.

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 Seal.

SEE, chil-dren, the Fur-bear-ing Seal;
Ob-serve his mis-di-rect-ed zeal:
He dines with most ab-ste-mi-ous care
On Fish, Ice Water and Fresh Air
A-void-ing cond-i-ments or spice,
For fear his fur should not be nice
And fine and smooth and soft and meet
For Broad-way or for Re-gent Street
And yet some-how I of-ten feel
(Though for the kind Fur-bear-ing Seal
I har-bor a Re-spect Pro-found)

Oliver Herford

Sailor's Yarn.

        While voyaging on northern seas
        For days we could not catch a breeze,
        But were held fast as if in vice
        Surrounded by the bergs of ice,
        We could not move the ship or boat
        But on low, flat iceberg we did float;
        Of provisions we took good store
        With big oars we rowed the berg to shore,
        And pride and joy each one feels
        When we had caught ten thousand seals,
        And our brave boys each one they dare
        To boldly capture great white bear;
        On floating berg we built with boards
        A storehouse for to hold our hordes,
        We had a stove and stock of coal,
        So we enjoyed this voyage droll,
        In centre of berg we dug a hole
        And erected a str...

James McIntyre

The White Seal

Oh! hush thee, my baby, the night is behind us,
And black are the waters that sparkled so green.
The moon, o'er the combers, looks downward to find us
At rest in the hollows that rustle between.
Where billow meets billow, there soft be thy pillow;
Ah, weary wee flipperling, curl at thy ease!
The storm shall not wake thee, nor shark overtake thee,
Asleep in the arms of the slow-swinging seas.

You mustn't swim till you're six weeks old,
Or your head will be sunk by your heels;
And summer gales and Killer Whales
Are bad for baby seals.
Are bad for baby seals, dear rat,
As bad as bad can be.
But splash and grow strong,
And you can't be wrong,
Child of the Open Sea!

Rudyard

To A Fish

You strange, astonished-looking, angle-faced,
Dreary-mouthed, gaping wretches of the sea,
Gulping salt-water everlastingly,
Cold-blooded, though with red your blood be graced,
And mute, though dwellers in the roaring waste;
And you, all shapes beside, that fishy be,--
Some round, some flat, some long, all devilry,
Legless, unloving, infamously chaste:--

O scaly, slippery, wet, swift, staring wights,
What is't ye do? What life lead? eh, dull goggles?
How do ye vary your vile days and nights?
How pass your Sundays? Are ye still but joggles
In ceaseless wash? Still nought but gapes, and bites,
And drinks, and stares, diversified with boggles?

James Henry Leigh Hunt

The Fishermen

Hurrah! the seaward breezes
Sweep down the bay amain;
Heave up, my lads, the anchor!
Run up the sail again!
Leave to the lubber landsmen
The rail-car and the steed;
The stars of heaven shall guide us,
The breath of heaven shall speed.
From the hill-top looks the steeple,
And the lighthouse from the sand;
And the scattered pines are waving
Their farewell from the land.
One glance, my lads, behind us,
For the homes we leave one sigh,
Ere we take the change and chances
Of the ocean and the sky.
Now, brothers, for the icebergs
Of frozen Labrador,
Floating spectral in the moonshine,
Along the low, black shore!
Where like snow the gannet's feathers
On Brador's rocks are shed,
And the noisy murr are flying,
Like black scuds, overhea...

John Greenleaf Whittier

Bear And Whale.

A fable of the British and Russian dispute of 1885.


        Russians suffer sad distress
        For lack of freedom of the press,
        But oft' times they are full able
        To enlighten with a fable.

        And they enjoy a humorous tale
        Of a bear and monster whale,
        The bear he went to the sea shore
        The mighty ocean to explore.

        And this it quick enraged the whale
        Who beat the ocean with his tail,
        With foaming words he told the bear
        That he would strip his hide and hair.

        If he ever found him more
        Encroaching on his sea shore,
        The bear replied I will not quail
        At frothing words of any whale.

        For you are a lump of blubb...

James McIntyre