Thomas Cowherd

Lily of the valley, this brief poetic sally
At the very least is due unto thee.
Thy fragrant wax-like flowers all freshened by Spring showers
Seem purity embodied unto me
...

Dear Bride of five-and-twenty years,
I gladly give to thee this song.
That thou wilt spurn it I've no fears,
For love still reigns within thee strong
...

Full thirty years of wedded bliss,
My darling wife, we have enjoyed;
And still I can with rapture kiss
Thy sweet, chaste lips-for I am void
...

I sing the Sewing Machine,
The blessings it brings to the fair.
Some of those blessings I've seen,
And therefore its praises declare.
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Fire-fire-fire! Nigher still and nigher
Seem the tones of the 'Alarum bell' borne on the air!
Awaking with a start, what a sinking of the heart
Even the strong are apt to feel, ere they are well aware!
...

To the deep umbrage of our North back woods,
And near to Huron's wild romantic shore-
Where Winter's storms are seen in angry moods,
To make the Lake's waves dash with loudest roar-
...

Ellen, on this glad occasion
I address to you a rhyme,
And in tones of sweet persuasion
Would advise you at this time
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A thousand joys, my darling wife,
Be thine on this our marriage day!
And now I'll sing; for such a life
As we have led deserves a lay
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Dear friends, to this our social feast,
We bid you welcome gladly,
And trust you will not in the least
Spend moments with us sadly
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Hail to thee, Humming Bird
Beauteous and bright,
That flitt'st like a spirit
Before my rapt sight!
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Dear cousin, I hail you as Mother most brave,
Who crossed in mid-winter Atlantic's broad wave!
What you had to suffer in part I conceive,
Though no gloomy story you made me believe
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An humble poet-save the mark!
Wishes to give to you a lay
In honor of your wedding day,
But somehow labors in the dark
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Stern Winter on foul mischief bent
Left his cold region of the North;
As his Advance-guard early sent
Loud howling blasts and snow storms forth
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I saw a youthful mother lie
Upon the bed of death.
No bitter tears bedimmed her eye
Though parents, spouse, and friends were nigh
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A task so painful, yet so justly due
To thee, my dear, my much respected Brother,
Rightly devolves on me whose heart beats true
In Zion's cause; yet, would it were another!
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My dearest children, do you know
That best of all things here below,
And knowing, you should always show
To one another
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Christians of Brantford, list awhile,
An humble Rhymer speaks to you.
Perhaps the fact may cause a smile,
Though I speak not from motives vile
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Ida, it is a burning shame
That thy short, sweet poetic name
Has not a single lay called forth
From my cranium since thy birth!
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Sweetly asleep is Mary Ann,
In calmest infantile repose
Her lovely face no longer wan,
Seems lovelier still when in a doze
...

Come, dove-eyed peace-offspring of heaven, descend;
Thy calm, sweet influence do thou me lend;
Dispel the gloom that broods upon my mind;
Bid melancholy flee; make me resigned
...