Of our Laureate we now do sing– His youthful muse had daring wing, He then despised Baronhood, And sang ’twas noble to be good. None sang like him of knights of o…

Goldsmith wrote Deserted Village, Now again reduced to tillage; Once happiest village of the plain… Place now you look for it in vain; There but one man he doth make ric…

The following appeared in Truth i… considerable length. We have conce… thereof into the few verses below.… Canadian North-West, during the t… Bay Company’s rule.

They once in wilderness did ride On beast with horn and shaggy hide… A savage goat or unicorn, But now parade in uniform ; As gay as ancient Knight or Lord,

Gardner told a sad tale of woe, How he was oft o’erwhelmed in snow But was he frightened? no! no!! no… He onward cheerfully did go, And though that he did freeze his…

In these sketches of towns in Wes… to suppose that because we have pr… that said rhymes are poetry. If we… like a dewdropp sparkling in the s… Brantford as thriving city’s famed…

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 h…

Of Beachville, village of the pla… We now will sing a short refrain, For here the Thames doth pleasant… And charms to landscape doth besto… Though river here it is not deep,

Worthy of either song or story Are the Shires found Frith of Mo… Here lies the valley of Strathspe… Famed for its music-lively, gay. Elgin cathedral’s 'prentice aisle

An old man, who had charge of fiel… With pride he saw two birds did bu… A broad, capacious, warm nest ; Soon full of young with speckled b… And when the old man there did pas…

Our Canadian County Perth Commemorates great bard of earth ; Stratford and Avon both are here, And they enshrine the name Shakes… For here in Stratford every ward

Westward it winds past each town, Growing broader as it flows down. Onward it glides, never weary, Meandering so soft and cheery. The sunbeams on the waters glance,

The mind thats sad it doth relax The humor of the witty Saxe. He puts us in a cheerful mood, Mirthful as our own Tom Hood.

In summer time it doth seem good To seek the shade of the green woo… For it doth banish all our care When we gaze on scene so fair. And birds do here in branches sing

When this country it was woody, Its great champion, Mrs. Moody, She showed she had both pluck and… In her work, roughing in the bush. For there all alone she will dwell…