He sat 'neath the green verandah shade at cool of a sunbright day;
And many a pleasant look he cast to the children at their play.

Though blanched his locks, though stooped his form, his heart no frosts might sere,
For peacefully the shadows fall, where mind and soul are clear.

At length the noisy mirth is hushed for breathing space of rest,
And gaily round the loved grandsire the merry group hath pressed.

There's gentle Effie, little Will, big Joe and sturdy Ben,
Grandpa's namesake, "who sure will make his mark 'mongst mighty men."

"A story!" and the spectacles are moved from off the face,
And carefully and kindly wiped ere slipped into their case.

Upwafted from the clover field, in fragrance on the wind,
Came breathings from a former hour in freshness to the mind.

"Perchance you have not listed how one stroke from woman's hand
Transformed a forest dense and dim to fair and fruitful land.

"'Twas in a far back settlement, within a dusky wood,
The rude hut of an immigrant on scanty clearance stood.

"Strong hands had reared the rooftree, and sowed the patch of ground,
And bleating from the sheepfold broke the solitude around.
"From rim of rudely builded flue the hazy smoke-wreaths curled,
To wander o'er the mighty vault which guards a sleeping world.

"Out of the widely opened door doth savory flavor steal
As, from gun of clever marksman, is prepared the evening meal.

"He had flung aside his hatchet and tired and care-oppressed,
Sat down to muse and vex his mind, while he gave his body rest.

"His heart yearned o'er the byegone hours, on Scotia's bonny braes,
When he chased among the yellow broom, or plucked the juicy slaes.

"He hears the plashing of the wave upon the sea-beat shore;
He hears his mother's gentle step, as music on the floor.

"He sees the ivy-mantled church on yonder green hill side
Where, in his earlier manhood, he claimed his girlish bride.

"But the past is passed forever, and in its place doth stand
The certain fate of pioneer in our Canadian land.

"A match 'twixt strength of arm and will, of labor tough and keen,
Affording slightest intervals for idleness, I ween,

"He conjured up his hardships in this new land of the West,
And reasoned of returning to the land he loved the best.

"But within the cot was wanted fresh fuel for the flame;
Impatient to the woodstack a trim young matron came.

"She steadied with her nimble foot the log late split in twain;
She raised the axe, but action failed; her stroke descends in vain.

"It failed, yet failed not; it had touched one sad, desponding heart,
And nerved his arm and urged him on to act the manlier part.

"Shame mantled o'er his sunbrowned cheek, and tinged his yet fair brow;
The mists fell from his longing eyes; he faced the real now.

"He looked unto the forest with its miles of birch and pine,
Its maple, and its tangled growth through which no sun might shine.

"I, for I was that laggard, by that stroke of woman's hand,
Was started on the royal road which needs no wizard wand.

"We planned and worked together—my Effie dear and I,
And quickly o'er our busy life the sunny years went by.

"For denseness of the solemn pine, came cheerful apple bloom;
And gleeful shouts of buoyant hearts outrang the sighs of gloom.

"For screeching owl, and croaking frog, came lowing of the cows,
As the merry bells went jingle, beyond the ample mows.

"Our boys grew up to help us; our boys—their mother's pride;
And ne'er a cloud came o'er our joys until our first-born died.

"A village sprung up near the farm; steam engines whistled by;
And the dusky serpent trailed its fumes along our placid sky.

"Then your father brought a fair young wife, our waning hours to cheer;
Her face was sweet as daffodil, her voice as song-bird's clear.

"But one morn there came a message,—Joe! you remember all;
And grandma heard it cheerfully, and answered to the call.

"My love! who loved me ever, from morn till gloaming grey,
Dear heart! who never murmured o'er the home of early day.

"For though she loved the olden land with love that knew no change,
With fuller life her sympathies found freer, broader range.

"The kind eyes closed, the busy hands were crossed on silent breast;
And reverently her mourning sons conveyed her to her rest.

He looked upon the tasseled corn, the richest crop all round,
Then wistfully he gazed beyond to the now hallowed ground

Where slept his past; he faintly sighed, then bowed his agÈd head;—
The children strove to rouse him but—the loved grandsire was dead.

No more he tells of struggle vast, or rest from labour won;
He singeth in the psalms of peace 'neath an unsetting sun.

No more he sees with vision dim; upon that other shore
The Light of Life hath welcomed him to glory evermore.