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Un d«>s symboles suivants apparaitra sur la dernidre image de cheque microfiche, selon le cas: le symbole — h^ signifie "A SUIVRE", le symbcte V signifie "FIN". Maps, plates, charts, etc., may be filmed at different reduction ratios. Those too large to be entirely included in one exposure are filmed beginning in the upper left hand corner, left to right and top to bottom, as many frames as required. The following diagrams illustrate the method: Les cartes, planches, tableaux, etc., peuvent dtre film6s d des taux de reduction diff^rents. Lorsque le document est trop grand pour dtre reproduit en un seul clich6, il est film6 d partir de Tangle sup6rieur gauche, de gauche d droite, et de haut en bas, en prenant le nombre d'images ndcessaire. Les diagrammes suivants illustrent la m6thode. 1 2 3 1 2 3 4 5 6 -s^ma Q THE POE/nS OF WILLIAM TELFORD. SMITH, PETERBOROUGH, ONTARIO, CANADA, (§at^ of ^dttBotoui^ ^i^ ^n^uii^'a ^ocki^. /A^77 PETERBOROUGH: .!. R. 8TWATT0N, PRINTIR AHO ■OOK-BINDER, EXAMINKR OWIOK. 1887. -ft) 71989 L ^ t THE AUTHOR REBPSCTFULLY DEDICATES THIS BOOIC OF POEMS ZTbe ©ffllcers an5 /IDentbers of St. BnDrew's Society, PETERBOROUGH, GRATEFULLY COUPLING THEREWITH THE NAME OF MR, R. H. THOMSON, 22 8EELBY AVENUE, OHIOAQO. ILLINOIS, U.S.A.. A real gentleman, and a true-hearted Scot, who has for three years favoured the author with repeated expression of sentiments of high appreciation of every production which came under his notice, and who has exhibited the most unbounded interest !n them ; wlio has spared neither pains nor expense to have many copies of them printed and sent, not only by post to every State in the Union, but to all lands where he knew of a friend, as the extracts, from his letters, printed in the appendix of this book, will show. The beauti- ful language of his continued correspondence, and the flattering encomiums, ever flowing from his ready pen, induce the grateful author to pay to his name this small token of respect, for the unceasing admiration the latter has manifested for all his writings, and though they have never met in persoi>, in spirit they have enjoyed delightful communion, and their common love for dear old Scotland has woven endearing bonds of friendship which can only result from kindred poetic emotions and the sympathy of two leal c-,d liberal hearts. • INDEX. INDEX. A Poor Scholar ; or. My Own Ditlieultiea A few Lines Bordering on Love A Word of Advice to the Sons of Those Early Pionttus A Scotchman's View of the Iloyal Marriage y-1 Ambitious Sandy in his First Love An Answer to my Friends Auld Scotia and Scotia's Sons A True Husband's Wish A Welcome to Kennedy, Scottish Vocalist A Bicker 0' Brose . . A Caution to Farmers A Scotchman's Hame Life . . Attend to Home and Farm , . . . , An Address to Spring . . Auld Scotia Still our Hame A Puir Scotchman's Views of Canada A Simple Advice.. Auld Scotia as it was and is . . A Hint to the Late Closers .... A Nicht Like Hame A Ivlother'c Reflections A Voice fro.n Behind the Plough A \ lew of the Destruction made by the Grasshoppers A View of the Name of (Jod on the Scenes Around Us. . Appendix . . . . . . Biographical Sketch of the Author. . Bum's Anniversary, 1876 Burn's Anniversary, 1877 Burns' Birthday and Hogg's Centenary Burns' Anniversary . . Burn's Anniversary Bob and tire Duck . , Complimentary Lines to the Nile Voyageurs Complimentary Lines to a Young Lady in Morayshire, Scotland Complimentary Lines to Mr. Kennedy Complimentary Lines r o Mr. A. P. Morgan Dedicatory .. '., .. ■ .. Don't Mortgage your t arm ., Dunkin Men and Thoir Banu ar Death of Kennedy, the Scotti ih Vocalist Electioneering Times Election Times . . . . Extempore Verses . . . , From the Author to the Header First Day of April I'AOE. 11 13 17 21 31 32 40 46 51 52 55 62 66 67 70 75 76 78 84 87 113 117 126 131 153 9 33 39 68 84 90 123 36 57 92 121 3 43 60 116 62 118 124 11 26 . I! ■■ INDEX. \ \ • For the Ladies First Encounter with i'otato IJugs Farewell to 1856 Farmers' Daughters (irand Here to (Jather He's Only a Farn\er Haulan, our Canadian Boy . . ., Health Help your Brither Scot Harry Winch's Stall Hard Tiines is all the Cry . . . I am Sowing . . I have Sowed it, I have Reaped it In Menioriaui of Mrs. W. H. Robertpon In Search of Snow ... .. .. .. In a Letter t»a Friend possesed of a tiood Wife . . In Mcnioiiam of Mrs. Adam King and Child . . Jock and the Cream Kennedy's Farewell Night in I'eterboroujjh Lines of Thanks .. Lines Inscribed to Robert H. Tlionison . . Lines on President (Jarfield .. Lines on the Sudden Death of the Hereof the Tyne Lines for Mr. James Millar's Concert Lines on the Death of a Neighbor . . Lines upon the Awful Accident at New-Hartley, England Lines on St. Andrew's Society Picnic at Lakefield Lines by Request on the Cameron Clan Lines to John Elder Lines in Appreciation of the Scottish American Journal . Long Looked For Comes at Last .. .. Lines written in Toronto while undergoing an operation for cataract on Lines on the Re-opening of A. P. Morgan's Hotel Lines of Thanks, inscribed to R. H. Thomson Lines Dedicated to Mrs. Robt. H. Thiomson Lines of Thanks to Mr. D. Belleghem Lines of Thanks to Dr. George Herbert Burnhani Lines upon the Sudden Death of a Neighbor Lines of Sympathy to Mr. David Kennedy Lines of Sympathy to Mrs. Tlicmsoii Lines of Thanks to the Scottish American Journal My Poetical Doom and the Voice of my Friends . . Met Again Man's after Influence My Grannie and Me . . My Parritch and Auld Horn Spune My Wife's Old Marriage Ring ■^ New Year's Morning Meditation . . . . Our Bard's Decision One of the Deceived Scots . . . , . . On the Unexpected Death of a Neighbor On Finishing a Letter Late PAOE. 88 60 74 83 82 42 82 77 79 116 130 27 28 129 136 149 ..' .. 150 137 • 92 14 18 19 25 26 32 42 44 50 59 63 64 ton my left eye . . 106 108 110 Ill 113 121 135 136 139 149 29 48 * 101 103 112 129 68 11 86 96 149 INDEX. VAOK. Oil the Death of a IJeloved VVife ... 150 President (iarHeld .. . .. .. .. .. ., S8 Puir Ciuinie Scots . . . . . . , . .... . . . , . . . 81 Paiody on John Anderson, my Joe, John 123 Killed by Kindness . . , . . . . . , . . . . . . , . , . , 96 Reflective Thoughts . . . . . . . . 108 Reflective Thoughts 110 Reflections on (Jreenwood's Fate ,. .. ,. 131 Reply to John Buchannan 'a Epistle .. 161 Short Sketch of the Rebellion in the North-west . . . .* 21 Scotia's Heather 23 St. Andrew's Society, Peterborough .. .. .. 33 Scotia's Puir Hit Dauchters .. ., ,. .. .. 60 Scots Bring your AVives .. 55 SuccesB to the Calico Ball 56 St. Andrews' Society Pic-Nic . .... 71 St. Andrews' Nicht .. 73 Scot's in Number are Clettiu' sma '. . .. .. .. 83 She is (lone ... .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. ' .. ... 88 St. Andrew's Night, addrcssd to A. P. Morgan . . . . . , . . . . 95 St. Andrew's Bard's Reflections . . . . • . . . . 99 St. Andrew's Society Pic-nic, 1873 104 St. Andrew's Picnic 107 St. Andrew's Nicht 115 Sandy and Jimmie . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . , . . . . 143 Sunday Reading .... .. .. .. .. .. 144 Sarah's Lament 151 The Pioneer's Retrospect ,. .. .. .. 15 They Have Passed Away . . . . . . . . , . . . . 25 The Age of Sham 28 The Bible Society 45 To the President, Oliicers and Members of the Peterborough St. Andrew's Society 46 The Harvest is o'er ^ 47 Thoughts on the Season of Death 54 Thought's While Walking in the Little Lake Cemetery . 57 To a Little Bird '. 58 The Fall of the Leaf 61 To Lewis Glover, Est] _ 68 The Bill of Fare 72 The Dummer Murder . . . . 80 The Wondrous Telephone 88 The Braggin' Scotch 93 To the Sons of Scotia 94 This wad be a Queer World, if there wasna' a Scot ., . 97 The Scenery of Scotland . . . . . . . . . . . . 99 The Desjardin's Railway Accident 100 Two Characters of Men— Two Ways to Honor and Wealth . . 102 To a Buttercup .. .. .. 106 Two Days Trial of the Dunkin Act in Peterborough 109 The Bard's Gratitude 119 The Last of February and Begining of March, 18S6 i. .. 119 The Dead Beaver 121 SSBISg INDEX. The {Joldeii Anvil's Address to the Golden Lamb The Linlies' Circling Hoops The Pig's Fiineru 1 Tiie Toils of a Laboring Man The House Warming of an Old liaclilor The Orphan Boy we Knew.. Tlie Land o' Cakes Thoughts Suggested upon hearing of the Death of Angus McMartin The Elders in Leitho Im Kirk Session The End Upon the Effects of Cholera View of our Hard Winter . . Welcome to the Sons of Scotland, from Toronto Welcome tt) the Peterborough Voyageurs on their Return from Egypt Wi' Scots that Day 'fcVhen we were but Callents .. Welcome to Mr. Kennedy, Scottish Vocalist What is up wi' the Scotch . . Wad ye like tf) (4ang Back .. .. .. •■ •■ ••• You ask me Ilow I Live When the Scott Act comes in force .. You Cannot Please All ■•AOK. . . 122 127 . . 128 132 . . 138 184 . . 138 142 . . 142 152 . . 140 24 30 38 49 69 . . 74 89 98 112 ..114 86 i . (giogrop^icaf ^fieic^ of (U (^uthx, CONTRIBUTED BY AN ADMIRER. ♦ • — » William Tolfoid first saw the lij^lit in a small village called Liitliolm, in the parish of Eccles, in Berwickshire, Scothuid, on the sixth day of January, 1828. lie Mas the yunnj^tst son of Rohert Telford. At the tender a}»e of seven years William Telford suffered his first reversg in his struggle for mental improvement. His father was prostrated with a long and serious illness, which, indeed, spared his life but left hiin physically incapable of longer 8upi)ortia^ his family as he was able to do when in health. At this time William had just begun to attend school, but the support of his father being withdrawn it was impossible for him to continue his studies and his brief school days came to a sudden close. It was necessary that at the earliest possibb moment he should contriV)ute his share to the support of the family. At the age of ten years he was forced to leave school and join his brother at work — fligg'ng drains in winter and working in a brick and tile yard in summer. But the severe labour William was forced to perform did not crush out his inspirations for mental improvement. He rose* ; superior to his prosaic environments, and the words i of the poet Gray, applied to genius, extinguished [in undevelopment, could not be applied to him : — Chill penury repressed their noble rage, And froze ^e genial current of the soul. I He triumphed over conditions which would have [brought discouragement, or plodding content, with ! ignorance, to a less aspiring soul. Day after day, : in the rare intermissions of arduous toil, he strove, [though but a child, with the energy and deter- 1 mination of a man, to improve his mental cuiiditiDM. He had neither bof)kH nor means to procure tlioni, and ho had 0()n8e(inent'y to rely I'U the kip;*!- nesa of neighbors, who fyinputlii/,c,d sciu'cely reached to the top. I have thinncil out the turnips and raked up the hay. Gathered sticks and picked stanes, yes, for live- pence u day ; Cleaned the byers out in winter and fed alt the kye, I'ulled the turnips in winter, when the cold made me cry. People hei'e they might laugh at the very high wage, That the farmers gave there to a boy of ii.y age ; I have told you the waye.it seems hoarding up pelf; Yes, from five pence a thiy, and I boarded myse'f. ■lust then in my 'head, I felt something begin. Neither teacher not learning could ever put in ; 'Pile young poetic feeling began tc diiruse, Or as some people call it, the gift of the muse. While at work 1 would stop, vfjs, anil throw down my tool, When a voice whispered, Bdl, you must go back to school ; But a sound saying, impossible, rang through my head. By the sweat of your brow, you must earn your own bread. Want of learning was one, and hard work was the other, That strove the young ftame in my head thus to smother ; Forsooth, all their striving m as greatly in vain, Lest they cut off my head, or else scooped oMt my brain. So I rhymed without grammar in byre and in field, My neighbors oft called me a wonderful chield ; And (jft at our work for a laugh and a jest. They would give me some words, my young genius to test. I would then scratch i:iy head, and in two minutes time. Just give them their answer instanter in rhyme ; I used not a pen, nor a pencil of lead, But I carried my manusctipt all in my liead. When I saw the black t-nail with its two pointed horns. Or heard the blythe black-bird sing up on the thorns ; As I watched the cruel boys, killing bees firiu ■; t.e brave, I resolved not to drmlge through ♦Jus life like a slave. So I made up uiy mind the Atlantic to cross ; If I nothing should gain, I had little t.) loss. I gathered my clothes, and packed up my chest ; When I looked at my purse, o'er my eyes came a mist ; I fingered, I counted but ten aovereign.>< clear, And they dwindled to three when \ landed out here. I soon found employment, and likewise a wife. Still I cherished the muse through t le changes of life. Though I sit like a night owl, or rise m ith the lark. With rhyming I never neglected my work In the field, at the plougii,or when swinging the axe. That's the time tiiat my head flights of fancy it t{ikes ; At night when my tools in their place I do lay, Then I write down the lines I composed through the day. My wife and a family 1 have suill ti> support. But the chain of my hardships ia fast getting sli^tt, I don't wjite in darkness for my lamp burnetii free, Zes, 1 purchase my oil at the large giant T. I write just for pleasiu'e, wealth is not my aim. Far less the bright laurels of honor or fame. It's a poor paying trade ; instead of the cash Is a sneer at my lines or the critic's od for her son's safe return. Amen ! she said, and from her knees arose, A gentle tap —quick she unlocked the door. Around his neck her loving arms she throws, And kissed those lips she oft had kissed befoie. Thank God I she cried, my earnest prayers were heard, What I implored for stands before my eyes ; Take him G — Father as thine own reward, Make him obedient, great and tridy wise. No poet's pen can paint a mother's love, A mother's prayers no mortal man can know ; Their depth and heiglit is known to one above. And sometimes answered on this earth below. From that same hour young (Tarfield took his stand For God and right the banner which he Ijore ; Learning or teaching, fighting or command, Or when the rolies of President he wore. His life, his death, his name — His mother's too, Not in the States alone, but o'er the world History shall hold up Garfield to man's view. While Stars aud Stripes wave in the breeze un- furled. POEMS OF WILLIAM TELFORD. 3( A SCOTCHMAN'S VIEW OF THE ROYAL MARRIAGE. 'I'liis piece was printed on white satin and sent to the Marquis uf Lome, when he took olTice as Cioveriiur-Gciieral of Canada, for which I received his compliment^i hi a very Haltering manner.— W. T. MY REQUEST. Sir, if these lines meet your exalted viewi, The boon I ask — I hope you won't refuse — It is not oftice, faine, nor wordly pelf, But a true portrait of your noble self! That is but half I crave— the other part- There is a form that soothes and cheers your heart : I long to see the partner uf your life, Couple with yours, one of your Royal wife I Fourth (laughter uf Kiiglaiid's pattern sire, Fair child of that mother we love and ndniire, lluH that highlaiider gained both your heurt and your haiitl, And l)orne you oti' from yuur palaue so grand T 11 ail daughter of England's motherly (jueen, All Scotland awaita thee to welcome thee in, Like the rays of the sun ns he bursts on the morn Is thy presence, fair bride of the Marquis of Lorne. riiuugli the lU>yal blood of England Hows through her veins, 8iie has buwed to accept one of Scotland's swains, Uld England, be proud, while all Scotchmen rejoice, "I'is the man, not the rank, that is Louise's choice. Why should king«, queens, or princes e'er dare to find fault ? To extinguish true love— which no rank can exalt'; Why enslave the young heart, though in palace they're born I I Tiiere's love just as true in the Marquis of Lorne. True, no title of prince flashes front of his name, I Sterling honor, untarnished is ecjual the same. Though no crown deck his head, nor in truth never shall, lA true faithful husband surpasses them all. [Among heather-clad hills, she has chosen her home, j With her young mountaineer at their pleasure to roam, jMay her hopes be unruffled, her joys flow unshorn, [May she live to increase the old proud name of Lorne. [ietwixt English and Scots how mysterious the change ! There were times when their watoh\sord was death and revenge. The chief drops his sword : olden malice has Hed ; Scotia's son Engliind'a daughter to the altar has led. May this union prove faithful, causing love to ex- tend. Till the rose and thistle harmoniously blend, Hinding Scotia more close to the Itold unicorn. While the star of peace shines in the hall of the Lorne. Up Lowlauders, shout ! .shout, ye High landers, too! For the Queen's daughter comes to reside among you. Donald, blow up your bagpipes, the sound she well knows, And welcome your Chief with IiIh fair ICnglish rose. Could Wallace and Brace ami a Douglas so brave, Be permitted one glimpse on tiiis siile of the grave, They would stami in amazement, in pride, not with scorn, To behold the Queen's daughter : young lady of (Lome. SHORT SKETCH OF THE REBELLION IN THE NORTH-WEST. CONOR.VTULATINO OL'K VOLl' STEERS »(>K THKIH BKAVKRV I.N OENKRAI., .VNU TUE MIOr.A.NU B.ATTAUON IN P.^RTKH'LAR. Four months ago a dark foreboding cloud Hung o'er our North-west, draped in warlike shroud Ready to burst, at the appointed hour, To slay the helpless, crush out law and power. Deeper and darker, spread the signs of war, Completely obscuring every peaceful star, As lightning's flash before tlie tliiinel soul ; His warlike spirit he could not restrain, Action must follow his o'erflowing brain. The time had come —dark secrets to reveal. Rebellion fostered l)y the bloody Reil, By threats and promise from his treacherous soul Soon brought the halfbreeds under his control. Hundreds of red-skins not knowing his designs. Believed his promptings, marshalled in his lines. Plunder and murder threatened that fair land. By rebel leaders and their ruthless baud, The frightened settlers helpless stooil dismayed, Calling upon Ontario for aid. News of the outbreak and atrocious deeds H ' 'Ml lii iiiii Hit;l|!: ■|u;....,i 32 POEMS OF WILLIAM TELFORD. O'er this Dninininii Bpreati with Ughtiiing npeetl, Fireil ea(;li loyal hi art with patriotic zeal To oruah rebellion and to conquer Riel, Quick every -"ity, .'•owii anil village small MuHti^red their u'.ttii, reapoiKled to the call - Prompt orders isHue^l, bugle Hounding clear Hronj^ht to licndquaitcrs every Volunteer. No cowardH there drrsaed in those tunica red, Each anxiou8, hoping to let Kiel feel lead. The roll was called ;ina n.any in grief retired When they were told that t.hey wt:'«i not required. To you who go —God speed yon in y( ur oause To fight or die for country and its lavs, And for your safety many an eaniert prayer Shall heavenward rise while you are lighting there. The distance great, bad roads, their progress slosv. On train and teams through lofty drifts ot snow. Cold sleet and ruin their scarlet tunics drench. No storm had power determined hearts to quench ; Brave and undaunted, ti'ue to the heart's core, Without one murmur all their hardships lK>re, Cold, wet or hungry, sore fatigued they creep — Beneath their blankets seek the warrior's sleep. The fieM of action they have reached at last Hut still their trials and sufferings are not past ; Through spring flood waters and fast melting iinow Miles they must march to meet the rebel foe. To-day on rail, to-morrow afoot; again Upon rough highway or o'er flooded plain, Through tangling brushwood on the Indian trail O'er all obstructions our red coats prevail ; Skirmishing parties on each side to search For lurking rebels on the line of march ; Indians like wildcats, from the thicket spring. Above our boys their whizzing bullets sing. Halt I was the order a short rest to take, The spot was on the borders of Duck Lake Where cruel Poundmaker and his lawless band. Prepared for battle, boldly took their stand. Now face to face for the first time appears The bloodthirsty rebels and our volunteers. The hour had come to prove to everyone Whether our volunteers would fight or run ; They faced, they fired, they fought like heroes true, Like showers of hail the murdering bullets flew Driving Poundmaker and his daring braves Back to their haunts and many to their graves. Brave volunteers, your honor you maintained, Fought your first battle and the victory gained ; Our young Dominion is, and ought to l)e Proud of such true and valiant sons as thee. Onward they march, through water and tough mud, They powder smelled, now thirst for rebel's blood ; In joke and mirth their glittering Ixiyonets feel Hoping ere long to thrust them into Kiel. No veteran troops trained to the field for years Could grumble less than our brave volunteers, To march, »r guard, to iluty's call each one Without one murmur, prompt and freely done. Many left home well used to dainty food. By mother's kindness, always something good, Canned meat and hard tack, morning, noon and night Would make them feel a soldier's life was tight. Hunger nor hardships could not damp their joys Nor crush the spirits of our Midland boys ; Forward through trials that brave battalion goes Searching in vain to find the rebel foes. Long days and nights, yes, weary weeks have passed, Now famed Batoche they have reached at last. The rebel's stronghold — Riel their leading star, Their chosen spot — which turned the tide of war. With glass our leaders closely viewed the scene Up to Batoche and the space between ; Trench after trench, for miles debarred the way. There hundreds of rebels in concealment lay : To storm those trenches would have been > :iwise, Hush into death and brave men sacrifice. Save life and contjuer — this one hopeful ray — The Gatling guns must be brought into play ; Those Gatling guns like distant thunder roared. Into the trenches shot and shell they poured. Bursting, and scattering death in pit and plain Half-breeds and Indians numbering with the slain. Day after day they showered in fire and lead Strewing those trenches with the swarthy dead. Each thundering volley made the number less. Opens a pathway for our vs success, 'Twas noon, the sun shining strong and bright, Brave Colonel Williams j.'alloped to the right. While daring bravery from his eyes emerge. He formed his Midland heroes for the charge : With hat in hand, in stirrups stood erect His cheeiing words had the desired effect. " Face, charge, my boys, whate'er our fate may be, And waver not, to victory follow me. " Forward they dash with firm determined tread, From slow to quid:, at last to running speed ; Halt, fires a volley, then a rousing cheer To let them know the Midlanders were near. I he pits are reached where crouching rebels kneel, j Quick through their bodies darts the glittering | ateel; POEMS OF WILLIAM TELFORD. n iTheir bayonuU iTinisoiioil with the ruil lilood'a stain I Onward they nmh, to charge ami charge again. Amidst the carnage of tliat bloody Held [Our Midland horoen never thought to yitdd ; iTniiiipIing o'er comrades wclttM'ing in their gore, I Some mortally wounded fell to rise no more ; (With rebel bullets wliistling past their ears Fiercer and louder rose the Midland cheers, hefying danger, dread of death disdained [Till the last trench triumphantly was gained. iThc coniiuered rebels fled like frightened deers- I Leaving the fiehl to our lirave volunteers ; [By that last charge their victories crowned shall l)e [They took Batoche— set the prisoners free. I 'TwuH nobly done, boys, on your arms now rest, You crushed rel)eliion in our fair Northwest, Yuu showed those half breeds you still are and was [Able and ready to maintain our laws. (But where was Kiel when victory's flag was flying? lOh, crouched in the thicket like a vanquiched lion ; [He soon was <'aptured, placed to stand his trial, [Kor his base treachery drain the bitter phial. iBravc Midlan' boys, your first campaign is o'er— four names to-day shine brighter than before ; four daring bravery proves your verdict clear That ycu are worthy of the name you bear. Lieave that freed land and battle's fierce array, \Vith beating hearts friends wait on you to-day ; Shoulder your rifles, leave the Northwest plain ^nd ease the hearts your absence filled with pain ; irief -stricken mothers sorrowing for their boys Smile sweet to-day, exchanging grief for joys, [ind loving wives for absent husbands mourned Jubounded joys -to-day they have returned. The cloud of gloom that hangs o'er many a home, The vacant chair standing till one would come, The feverish heads ou pillows sleepless lay — Lll has been changed from grief to joy today. Thrice welcome back from dangerous wars alarms, rives, sisters, mothers stand with open arms To meet you now, unwounded and unslain— f*re8erved from death, in health returned again ; Fathers and brothers join the welcoming cheer. Their noblest manhood cannot hide the tear ; Ind loving fair ones cull the garden bower, po hand you bouquets of the choicest flowers. placed in line to-day, is there no blanks t Tould each man stand that mustered in ranks ! Jo ! some fought bravely, fell, are now at rest, death's calm slumber in the far Northwest. Jrave Colonel Williams, soldier and M.P., your Your dauntless leader, tell u'.e where is he? He leil you bravely o'er each trench and plain Up to Batoche — came back safe again ; He fell not in the action he took part, Vo reWl bullet pierced his noble heart, I'Jo Indian's arrow r.or the halfbreeds spear Wounded your leader, yet he is not here ; Preserved b; 'Jod, he rode mid battle liot. Through showers of bullets but thoy harmed him not. ToCfod's decree the bravest man must yield ; His place of death was not on l)attie Held ; Crownsfl with succes*!, bright victory on his side, His soul would swell witii mugnaninious pride ; Before his view rose honors' arching dome Triuniphunt welcon)e waiting him at home. Fate darkens prospects, brightest lopes destroys, Death dashed the cup before he .sippud its joys. Flowers plucked to deck his l)rave victorious head Was laid in grief upon his coffin lid. Not rebel iiand, but the just hand of (iod That slew your leader on his homewtird road. Instead of triumph on his prcncing bay A lifeless hero in his coffin lay ; His daring Yes, 1 have it, I will save it, While its twigs will hang thegither. Time will move them, but I lovb them, Both Auld Scotia and her heather. VIEW OF OUR HARD WINTER. Young Canada ! thou art u home to me ; It grieves me much to cost one stain on thee. Here and abroad great men thy name displays, And noble poets have joined them in thy praise. They tell us of thy lakes and rivers, clear - Of fish and fowl, of wolf and bounding deer, Of tall pine forests where the woodman roves, And shaded woods adorned with jnaple groves. Yes, Canada has those, and ten times more Of lands unsettled— rich mines to explore ; But o'er them all hangs a dark cloud so drear, It is her winters, stern, cold, severe. The present winter, scarce yet passed (iway, Will prove moat obvious every word I say. Of wind and storms, f frost and drifting snows, Of frc en limbs, or face or ear, or nose. Ask not the throi ^ which pace the crowded street, Where broom and shovei cleared paths for tlieir feet. They know as little of the deptli of snow As of the land where milk and honey flow. Traverse the highways, cast one sideward glance, Oft you would mount up higher than the fence ; Or meet a team and take your downward course, Plunge overhead, the driver and the horse ; Or, in the woods, where labor bids us treat}. Oft unexpected, plump near overhead, Or fall a tree, pluff out of sight it flies, Just the small branches meet our gazing eyes. Cold Canada — no milder name I find — This whiter leaves that impress on our mind ; Such frost and stbrnib, unusual depth of muow. Past fifty years, to tliis no equal shows. For two long montlis the sun was almost hid, While out of doors one shrank to put their head. Or if they ventured ere the day did close. Found hands and feet, or faces badly froze. Alternate north winds cold and piercing blevif,' The dazzling snow, in blinding drifts it flew To sheltered spots, where it in wreaths did lie, In shapes and beauty pleasing to the eye. Such frosts the hardy Ksquimaux would dread. It made our teeth play chatter in our heail, While from our eyes the cold-forced tear arose, And chains of ice betwixt the mouth and nose. The lifeless timber in the buildings crack. The cattle crouched with arch-shaped rainbow back. The wool-clothed sheep with bitter cold did bleat ; The fowls stit cowering, covering up their feet, The noisy pigs rang out their dread alarm, Han round ♦;heir pen t id squealed to keep them warm. Within the granary lay the thieving mice So stiff and lifeless, hard as chunks of ico. O Canada ! free, prosperous land. Cold Seventy-five shall oh thy record stand That those unborn in future years may know This winter's story of storms, frost and snow, The wintry clouds loaded with pearly snow. Or furious storms have but their time to blow. The banks of snow, or ice, on lakes and bay Must soon succumb, yes, melt and pass away ; Soon will the sun all winter's wor>c destroy, Our frost bit faces then will beam with joy, Instead of storms shall early warblers sing, To hail with \w «» '* Canadian spring. POEMS OF WILLIAM TELFORD. as LINES ON THE SUDDEN DEATH OF THE HERO OF THE TYNE. The sun was scai'cely two hours high, The morn was bright and clear — Two bird-like boats attract the eye, Swift through the water steer. The first convained the Paris crew, With stroke so soft and fine ; Close by their side with vigour drew The Champions of the Tyne. Renforth, the hero of the four, And leader of the stroke. With .skilful hands he dipped his oar, But not one word he spoke. " One noble spurt !" his comrades cried, " To niake our laurels shine ?" Murk well his words —"I cant !" replied The hero of the Tyne. Onward — still onward— side by side. These rival boats dash on ! Their powerful strokes so long and wide- Rut Renforth's stroke was gone ! Though once possessed with strength and skill, There was a power Divine, Adverse that day to Renforth's will, The hero of the Tyne. The assembled crowd might wave cr cheer, What could their plaudits serve? Atiliction seized his frame severe. Benumbing every nerve ! One backward glance — then dropped his oar. His erect head decline ; His grief-seized comrades pulled ashore, With the hero of the Tyne. "'here lay the champion of the Tiiames — And of the Tyne also I No foimer victories — honored names — Could ease one writhing throe ! At seven — so cheerful, light and gay, But e'er the clock strikes nine, A lifeless corpse in silence lay, The hero of the Tyne ! No more hia band shall grasp the oar. Nor feet tread native place ; His weeping widow shall no more Itehold his welcome face. Heroes, let them be gi-eat or small. All must to deatii resign ! In prime of life did Renforth fall — Famed hero of the Tyne. THEY HAVE PASSED AWAY. WI on children round our father's hearth, With young and tender heart, The play, the laugh of joyful mirth, We dreamt not we must part. Tha love, the smiles of sister, brother, .Still haunt us to this day. Loving father, tender mother. Perhaps has passed away. How small the family circle seems, Compared with what it was ; How changed are all our youthful dreams : We wonder at the cause. Some fell amidst the battle's rage, A hero's death had they — Some faded, died in youthful age ; Young, old, must pass away. We call to mind the happy days. Of youthful sport and joys ; A nd those that joined us in our plays. When young and thoughtless boys. Alas, where have our playmates gone, With whom we used to play, Some to strange lands whare fortune shone. Many have passed away. From youth to manhood we arrivsd. When youth and health combined ; Much daily pleasure we derived From comrades true and kind. Where now are our associates true, We loved in early day. In ditferent climes —while not a few, By death have passed away. In vain we look with anxious eyes Or long with aching heart. For those we loved by tender ties — Death snapped that cord apart. Many for mcnths, a few for years. In lingering sickness lay ; A sudden call another hears. And quickly pass away. While looking round Oi.r present home, Much numerous blanks we see, f : i ■ I 26 POEMS OF WILLIAM TELFORD. m ! w I lilHli" lirtj lliii! HinUi ,11 Friends, neighlx>i'8 gone to tlieir long home, Familiar once to me. The baby drops from its mothei's breast, The head of silver grey. The vigorous youth is laid at jest ; All ages pass away. There's no discharge in that great war, Each must with death engage ; Victorious death, thy hand shall mar The babe, the youth, the sage. No matter whether rich or poor, All must the cp.ll obey — Riches nan no escape procure. All ranks must pass away. Of late we saw the fresh aiid fair. Cut down in youth and bloom. Freed from this world's busy care. Sleeps peaceful in the tomb. Above the wreaths of drifted snow, A mound of fresh raised clay. That new made grave too pln.inly show — One more has passed away. Reader, death warns you and I, Each time he strikes the blow ; We watch our friends and neighbors die, So we must shortly go. ^ We must obey that solemn call, And mi'c with kindred clay ; While time is granted, may we all Prepare to pass away. FIRST DAY OF APRiL. 0, Canada, I greatly fear. This morning marks your nanie severe ; The north-west winds so fiercely blow. And furious drives the drifting snow. Five months has nearly taken flight Since woods and fields were clad in white. Successive storms of wind and snows. With frost that skinned the ear and nose. The snow drifts in through every crack. The cattle stands with crouched up back, Sheep in some sheltered corner bleat. Beneath their wings fowls hi