His mother from celestial bower, In the self same day and hour Of her death, or Heavenly birth, Gazed again upon the earth– And saw her gentle, loving boy,

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,

Delivered at an Odd-Fellows’ Con… Some have formed strange conceptio… They believe that enshrouded ‘mong… surroundings of our dark recesses… ’Gorgans and Hydras, and Chimeras…

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

The following ode was delivered by… of Burns, Ingersoll, in presence… This night shall never be forgot, For humble life none now despise, Since Barns was born in lowly cot…

The following was composed and rea… Parsonage, Salford, in the fall,… The farmers are in cheerful mood, For harvest all it hath been good; And all the grain was sown this sp…

Of Kentucky’s great hunter bold, Old Daniel Boon, oft tales are to… Of wild beasts he had no fear, But dangers loved, that pioneer. Canada hath hunters many,

The following sonnet on Brodie Ca… by my venerable Uncle, Thomas Mc… of John B. McIntyre, Ex-Grand M… —fellows, and now, and for many ye… St. Catherines. It was written by…

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…

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,

To night the children meet with gl… To view the fruits on Christmas T… And when its beauties we behold We’re very sorry we are old. The children all they have good ca…

Some in front rank will defiant Boldly place the Poet Bryant.

We fear to say, and yet we must, Dried apples once were full of dus… And you all know it is no joke. Saturate with tobacco smoke, And the hole where string did go t…

While the Thames meanders gently… fields of Ingersoll, a pleasing pi… ferent, alas, is the feeling in Lo… river is an object of dread and te… the eye or nostrils. As we have be…

And Millar, Poet of Sierras, For bold deeds he doth prepare us.