Domestic cattle quiet will graze w… and in spots now covered o’er with… where white men never trod, cities… sites with busy trade, and million… lands to take possession of the gr…

At Forres is a large round stone, A relic of the days by gone; For here there were two witches bu… Underneath their ashes urned. A man with veneration small

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…

Moore found the ballads of Green… Were oft obscured beneath the soil As miner digging in a mine Finds rubbish 'mong the gold so fi… So Moore placed dross in the wast…

In presenting this delicate, dainty morsel to the imagination of the people, I believed that it could be realized. I viewed the machine that turned and raised the mamoth cheese, and ...

When the great Bulwer’s pen did t… The history of the coming race His hero to us he hath unfurled The glories of his new found world… This bold traveller be did venture

Delivered at Masonic concert, Tha… Col. Moffat in the chair. The middle branch of Thames doth… O’er pebble bed, and it doth glow And sparkle like silver in the sun…

Lines on our departed Canadian St… Joseph Howe, none higher stood th… Thou wert a man with lofty brow ; D’Arcey McGee, so brillant and f… From Green Isle you came, 'oer th…

It is folly now to aim Or to seek for distant fame, But rest content if we can claim Something of a local name Oh the pleasant banks of Thame,

Poor laborers, they did sad bewail… When the machine displaced the fla… Theres little work, now, with the… Since cultivators weed the rows. Labor it became more fickle

We were so deeply impressed with t… in a prose tale that we transposed… A buffalo, lord of the plain, With massive neck and mighty mane, While from his herd he slowly stra…

We have scarcely time to tell thee Of the strange and gifted Shelley… Kind hearted man, but ill-fated, So youthful drowned and cremated.

Lines on the North of Scotland, d… quarter of a century ago: Scotsmen have wandered far and wid… From Moray Frith to Frith of Cly… McDonald, from his sea girt isle,

The ancient poets ne’er did dream That Canada was land of cream, They ne’er imagined it could flow In this cold land of ice and snow, Where everything did solid freeze,

Sonnet on an incident which occurr… Pleasant memories it awakes, When musing on our northern lakes… For there I saw a charming Reed, A friend to me in hour of need.