1853.

Hail, truly pleasant, fast increasing Town!
Thee I address, in rude but earnest strains.
My own adopted place! Some sixteen years
Have rolled fast o'er my head since first my eyes
Got sight of thee, from off yon Eastern hill.
How welcome was the sight! O, how cheering,
Grand and beautiful, to a mind like mine!
I oft had heard of thee before I came—
Had heard the name thy beauteous river bears;
As oft had wondered if I e'er should live
To cross the broad Atlantic's deep blue waves,
And reach the shores of that vast Continent,
Whose many wonders, in my boyish days,
I tried to sing, and still longed much to see.
As often tried to picture, in my mind,
The appearance thou presented to the view;
I fancied thee much less than what thou wert—
Consisting of a few small, straggling huts,
Both rude in shape, and ruder far in things
Which make home, what it always ought to be,
The dearest place that men possess on earth!
I next would paint thy river deep and broad
As great "Saint Lawrence," or the giant streams
That everywhere abound throughout this land!
In this I was deceived; its name misled
My loving fancy; for I surely thought
It must be great, indeed, beyond compare,
In such a country to receive such name.
[Footnote: The "Grand River."]

This great mistake corrected; I have found
Some wonders rare, though of a different kind;
And often have I wandered on the banks
Of thee, sweet River! where maple, elm or oak
Have spread their boughs and verdant foliage,
And have felt the cool, refreshing breezes
Which blew from off thy stream in Summer's heat.
There I would indulge, awhile, my fancy;
Give her the reins, and let her soar aloft
Into the vast infinitude of space,
Or try to tie her down to earthly things;

Make her portray what now the prospects were,
That this fair Town had placed before her view.
Would she soon rise to eminent estate?
Or would she struggle vainly, for a while,
To reach to greatness, and so just remain—
A monument of ruin and decay?
As I have stood upon the pleasant hills
By which thou art encircled, I have cast
My eye from East to West, from North to South,
And often marked the vast extent of ground
Which thou may'st fill; laid out by God's own hand
To be a glorious city—and that soon!

Then "put thy shoulder to the wheel!" Arise,
In all thy might, and let thy hardy sons
Put forth united efforts in the work.
Deepen thy Canal; let thy Railroads make
Both quick and certain progress; and neglect
No proper means to push the town ahead!

But, while thou strivest thus in temporal things,
Oh, forget not things of greater moment!
Strive to purge away all that's offensive
To true Virtue. Let the groggeries cease
To deal out liquid fire to kill thy sons!
Strengthen the hands of those who would maintain
Good wholesome laws. Give adequate support
To those who minister in holy things,
That they, unfettered, may aloud proclaim
Christ's great Salvation to a ruined World!
Let all true Christians in thy midst unite,
In holy efforts and God's strength, to stem
The torrent great of foul Iniquity.
Yes, fellow Christians, let our lives be such
As many commend the Truth which we believe,
Unto the consciences of all around.
Let those of us, especially, who claim
A parent's honored name, now boldly stand,
And show in bonds conjugal, faithfulness;
Still manifesting love and tenderness
Unto our partners; always aim to make
Our homes the scenes of happiness and peace!
Then will our children rise and call us blessed;
And generations yet unborn will tell—
That Brantford was determined to be great
In every thing which is both wise and good!

STANZAS.

WRITTEN IMMEDIATELY AFTER SEEING THE "HURON" LOCOMOTIVE, FOR THE FIRST TIME, AT CAINSVILLE, JANUARY 6, 1854.

[Footnote: This piece was the second that was printed in a Brantford paper, I would here take the opportunity to say that Henry Lemmon, Esq., of the Courier, though differing from me in politics, was exceedingly courteous in giving my rhymes free admission into his journal. The same testimony I also willingly hear to the late Herald, and the Expositor, still flourishing.]

The Iron Horse has reached at last Cayuga's heights so near;
Look out, ye men of Brantford, now, for soon he will be here!
He brings with him a weighty load, his way before him feels,
As slowly o'er the new-laid track he moves his ponderous wheels.

Mechanics, use your utmost skill, and ply each brawny arm,
Let sight of yon huge iron steed your very heart's-blood warm;
Nor let cold Winter's raging storms your progress now retard,
But quickly get the bridges built; nor doubt a rich reward.

Be steady, men! the hammers lift, send home the sturdy nails;
Make every fixture quite secure, and solid lay the rails;
'Tis done right well! and now, again, the Monster moves along,
But cautiously, for fear the work should not prove very strong.

He does resemble very much the mighty Elephant,
That let our new-made wooden bridge his courage sadly daunt;
Who, when he came to cross the stream which flows right through our
town,
Did fancy his great clumsy foot would break the fabric down.

So slowly moves this horse along, but soon his speed he'll quicken—
Nor care a straw though Winter's snow right in his track may thicken;
For when the works are finished well, he'll seem to snuff the breeze,
And fly at such a rapid rate as may his masters please.

Look out, ye men of Brantford, now! See, he has reached your doors;
He heaves and pants, he snorts and looks to sweat through all his
pores;
And yet he stands in harness trim, not cares a fig for rest,
But is quite ready still to move, and waits but your behest.

And now, above his whistle shrill, is heard a deafening noise—
The people all, in loud hurrahs, give vent to heartfelt joys;
The cannon roars, while all around is vigorous effort made
To make this Celebration throw all others in the shade!

Processions form, the banners wave; now mark those hardy Bands—
The Fire Brigade—who well deserve much honor at our hands;
For they in war-like deeds excel, yet not in bloody fight—
The battle with destroying fire, by day as well as night!

These form, with others in their rear, a very numerous host;
The Marshal gives command, and now each company takes its post;
The drums are beat, sweet music fills the ear with much delight,
And splendid Fireworks are prepared to grace the coming night.

O, ye who have the management of this most glorious fete,
My Muse would your attention crave, and earnestly entreat,
That you would not forget the poor, but give to them a share
Of all your choicest eatables, as much as you can spare.

And let them have a good supply of tea and coffee, too;
They well deserve as rich a treat as either I or you;
For do they not, with constant toil, such works as this complete?
Then welcome them unto the board, and bid them freely eat.

Now I will close my hasty rhyme, with earnest wish expressed,
That all our town would well behave to each and every guest;
Let all our conduct on that day be orderly and quiet,
And none lay out a single cent in drunkenness and riot.

THE YOUNG MOTHER'S VISION

1854.

I saw a fair young mother sitting,
With a babe upon her knee;
Fast through 'er mind sweet thoughts were flitting—
So it did appeal to me.

Her eyes with fondest smiles were beaming
On that infant's lovely face;
She seemed upon the future dreaming,
And I tried her dream to trace.

While her face with love was glowing,
As her babe looked up and smiled;
Thus I sketched her numbers flowing
Freely forth unto her child:

"Charming boy, in beauty vieing
With the fairest rose I see;
This I need not be denying,
That thou dearer art to me.

"Whilst thou slept, I fell to musing
On thy present happy lot;
And thy future for thee choosing,
Soon all other thoughts forgot.

"Thus I chose at first to paint thee—
Growing up toward thy teens;
No corruption near to taint thee
Passing through thy boyish scenes.

"Then I traced out all the labor
Which I would bestow on thee,
That thou mightest grow in favor
With the Lord, as well as me.

"Next I viewed thy mind expanding,
With the best of knowledge stored:
Light divine, and understanding
Gained from God's most holy Word.

"Years flew by; thou wert approaching
Very near to man's estate,
And, to those, around, wert broaching
Thy deep thoughts, with soul elate!

"Again I saw thee; thou wert coming
To the heights of world-wide fame;
My fears arose, I saw ills looming,
And bid thee guard thy spotless name.

"I looked again, and found thee wooing
Damsel modest, rich and fair;
And wicked men sought thy undoing,
Ere thou wert the least aware.

"But, thanks to God! He did preserve thee—
Gave thee, too, a lovely wife;
For duty this afresh did nerve thee,
Struggling with the ills of life.

"Again the vision passed before me,
But some years had fled away;
Thou hadst been sick, the Lord restored thee—
Children were around at play.

"I saw thy wife and thee were growing
In sweetest chaste conjugal love;
To things of God attention showing,
Fitting you for bliss above.

"The curtain drops: thy smiles recall me
To discharge my duties right;
Rich mercies I enjoy console me
For the loss of Vision bright."