Read at the opening of the New Pa… Some do boast of their pedigrees, But Salfords parent of the cheese… Rennie, industrious and wise, Here started this great enterprise…

My dear friend Gunn, May you prize won, But to us hark When you shoot mark, High you must aim

We have here a sight as fair As bonnie Doon or banks of Ayr. Like modest worth, meandering slow… The quiet waters gently flow. Rose, Thistle, Shamrock, all comb…

On a young girl showing me a scar… In its own place ’tis very good Always to have plenty of wood ; But, striking fair maid, that is r… And puts me in an angry mood.

It almost now seems all in vain For to expect high price for grain… Wheat is grown on Egyptian soil On the banks of mighty Nile. And where the Ganges it doth flow…

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…

The Thames, and tributary rills Here they do drive numerous mills, Enabling millers, to compete, To pay high price for oats and whe… Here streams do drive many a wheel

As musings on Banks of Canadian… meditations in verse, but the mono… soliloquy in prose, and as Campbel… we will give the following anecdot… Irvine, to Sir Walter Scott. Irv…

Poets they do pursue each theme Under a gentle head of steam, Save one, who needed fierce fire o… The brilliant, passionate Byron. His Child Harold’s Pilgrimage

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 following is a clipping from a… on St. Andrew’s Anniversary, 30th… The Anniversary of Scotia’s tetul… by a dinner at Mr. Douglass’ Hote… only Scotia’s sons, but many who c…

Poetry to us is given As stars beautify the heaven, Or, as the sunbeams when they glea… Sparkling so bright upon the strea… And the poetry of motion

‘O for a Lodge in some vast wilde… A man cryed out in his distress, For he was tired and sick of life, And weary of this worldly strife, And longed for to be far away

Addressed to Jonathan Wingle, Es… In summer time we roam o’er dingle… But winter draws us round the ingl… Why do you remain thus single, When love would make two hearts ti…

Where the young lady waiters we… Throughout the world they do extol The fame of our town Ingersoll, The capital of dairyland, To-night it seems like fairy land,