James McIntyre

[The Cheese Poet] (25 May 1828 – 31 March 1906 / Forres, Scotland)

James McIntyre Poems

1. Lines On Beachville 5/4/2012
2. The Great Fire Of Ingersoll 5/4/2012
3. Tiger and Elephant 5/8/2015
4. Potato Bug Exterminators 5/4/2012
5. Dried Apples 5/4/2012
6. Tercentenary Ode On Shakespeare 5/4/2012
7. Shelley 5/4/2012
8. Dryden And Pope 5/4/2012
9. Tom Moore 5/4/2012
10. Longfellow 5/4/2012
11. Walt Whitman 5/4/2012
12. Robert Burns 5/4/2012
13. Wars In Queen Victorias Reign 5/4/2012
14. The Shires On The Moray Frith 5/4/2012
15. St. Andrews Anniversary 5/4/2012
16. The Brothers Stuart 5/4/2012
17. Scottish Names In Oxford County 5/4/2012
18. Lines On Col. Wonham 5/4/2012
19. Lines 5/4/2012
20. Lineson Thorold 5/4/2012
21. Dr.Springer 5/4/2012
22. Galt And Dunlop 5/4/2012
23. Let Her Go 5/4/2012
24. Impromptu 5/4/2012
25. The Cheese Pionner 5/4/2012
26. Hope Macniven 5/4/2012
27. In Memoriam 5/4/2012
28. George Menzies Poems 5/4/2012
29. Female Revenge 5/4/2012
30. Lines On Corner Stone 5/4/2012
31. Robert Fleming Gourley 5/4/2012
32. Victoria Park And Caledonian Games 5/4/2012
33. Lines On Woodstock 5/4/2012
34. Lines On Thamesford 5/4/2012
35. Lines On Norwich 5/4/2012
36. Lines On Tilsonburg 5/4/2012
37. Donald Ross 5/4/2012
38. English Names On Canadian Thames 5/4/2012
39. Fight Of A Buffalo With Wolves 5/4/2012
40. Disaster To Steamer Victoria At London 5/4/2012
Best Poem of James McIntyre

Oxford Cheese Ode

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,
They ne'er hoped or looked for cheese.

A few years since our Oxford farms
Were nearly robbed of all their charms,
O'er cropped the weary land grew poor
And nearly barren as a moor,
But now the owners live at ease
Rejoicing in their crop of cheese.

And since they justly treat the soil,
Are well rewarded for their toil,
The land enriched by goodly cows,
Yie'ds plenty now to ...

Read the full of Oxford Cheese Ode

Mrs. Moody

When this country it was woody,
Its great champion, Mrs. Moody,
She showed she had both pluck and push,
In her work, roughing in the bush.

For there all alone she will dwell,
At time McKenzie did rebel,
Outbreak her husband strove to quell --
Her own grand struggles she doth tell.

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