|
William Hunter – Poems 1901, 1902, 1905 |
|
|
64 For the pioneers meeting 65 A hundred year ago 66 In memoriam |
67 To the first robin 68 Lines on finding a bunch of wild flowers 69 On finding a daisy by the roadside |
|
|
|
| 64. FOR THE PIONEERS MEETING - Antrim Farm - January 15, 1901 The Bruce Pioneers have now been assembled Once more to take hold of each other's aged hand These hands once so firm, but for years have trembled Also legs shaking 'neath them, they scarcely can stand So give them a seat, show them into their places And allow them some time for each other to cheer It is surely a pleasure to look in their faces A strong kindly face has each Bruce pioneer Now each one will think of the years that have glided Since they make them a home 'long Lake Huron's shore And they speak of the sea that for miles has divided The homes of their youth that they never saw more They were not of the kind that did any repining A firm faith in God always drives away tears Their faith and their works were forever entwining And they pulled well together these Bruce pioneers When their shanties were up, ere barns were all builded They took their best logs and builded their schools And in good able hands was the blue beech wielded They were so afraid we'd grow up into fools And so other folk will now have to judge us It is awful to think they were just in their fears But we'll stand on our rights, nothing can budge us We're very close friends of the Bruce pioneers When Sunday came round, in the school house assembled Were these hardy men to worship their God No hypocrite there with them ever dissembled Though some became sleepy and plainly did nod We know that the churches built in Bruce County (And many there are in the last forty years) Were built by the labour, and fed by the County Of these that we honour, the Bruce pioneers How pleasing to see these old folk in their carriage Their silver-tipped harness gleam bright in the sun One would think they were going to some royal marriage Instead of a holiday honestly won Some think of the days when they rode on their jumpers Behind Buck and Bright, their new yoke of steers That oft ranaway, giving their riders some bumpers As they ran among stump with the Bruce pioneers 65. A HUNDRED YEARS AGO - Antrim Farm - January 24, 1902 In Erin's Isle by Carroch shore Where ocean wave doth ebb and flow There Hugh McConnell had his home 'Tis just one hundred years ago A well-earned rest he then enjoyed For thirty years he'd had no home Where'er his regiment was employed Through cold and heat he had to roam But two and sixpence now was his Each day he lived to see the sun No more the weary watch by night And tired limbs when day was done A pleasant cottage by the sea And loving wife with him abide A boy to dandle on each knee A chubby maiden by his side The winter month has come again That brought that baby girl to earth Through many days with tears and pain With many full of joy and mirth How strange a hundred years ago Would find my mother just a babe Or running merrily on the shore As in the shining sand she played Now years have passed since she was laid Beneath Canadian churchyard sod Far from the shore where she had played A spot her foot had never trod O how I've wished and longed to see And run with bare feet on that sand Where mother played with childhood glee On Antrim shore, my own dear land But years are piling on my head My hair is getting more like snow Upon that shore I may not tread But think -- a hundred years ago 66. IN MEMORIAM - Antrim Farm - May 11, 1902 Her chair is now empty, her smile we do miss We have one less to cherish and one less to kiss For Mother is gone to that bright golden shore Ring the bell softly, there's crape on the door ...Edgar Allan Poe... When in the glad green spring-time of life Two hearts that are beating together Can boldly defy all the world with its strife In fair or in cloudy weather And so all the world with its smiles or frowns Only seemed as light as a feather And had little weight to bear us far down While loving and living together Some lives have gone out in their sweet early morn When all seemed around them so bright And others have carried life's burdens on Well into the twilight of night Some others do wilt in the noontide's bright glare Their work only fairly begun When "The Master" then said 'twere better to share Their labour with some other one And thus a voice went from our fireside And thus the light faded from home With only a memory now to abide Through all the dark days that will come A voice that had led us for twenty-five years In our singing on each Sabbath morning A voice ever true that dispelled all our fears And a faith in the Gospel, adorning And oft in the twilight with hymn or with song With ears all attentively listening Our children around her would all gladly throng Each eye with delight would be glistening Those sweet Sabbath twilights with mother at home Time's rough hand can never erase Deep down in our hearts, where'er we may roam We'll remember the smile on her face For a memory as bright as the rays of the sun When that orb has sunk down in the west Though down out of sight, and its day's work is done Its golden beams shine out the best And often we wonder with thoughts that will come Does she think of the ones she has left Or has she forgotten that earth was her home? And the ones she loved dearest and best Perhaps she is sent as an angel of light To guard us from sin's evil snare When tempted and tried she may lead us aright And our Victories joyously share So we'll take up the burden of life once again And work for a little while more In this world of sickness and sorrow and pain Till we meet on that Beautiful shore 67. TO THE FIRST ROBIN - Antrim Farm - March, 1905 Welcome to thee Redbreast Sweet harbinger of Spring What is the news from the Southland? What pleasures do you bring Where did you spend your winter? Among the orange groves? Or chirping in the wildwood Where we see the ring dove rove? Was your heart still in this Northland And its leafy maple trees? This Northland and its sunshine And the cheery cooling breeze Where you chose your sweet companion And reared your little brood? Did your throat long for the cherries So red, and ripe, and good? But we welcome you because you come Before the Easter-tide And take our thoughts to Calvary Where Christ our Saviour died Thy breast still shows the color Of our Saviour's precious blood That purifies our sinful souls And make us pure and good You are welcome in our orchards Our gardens and our lawn You are welcome in the evening Or in the early dawn And many a crumb was scattered From an apron by the door As apron shook by kindly hand That you'll not see any more But other hands will scatter crumbs And other forms be seen To stand and watch your crimson breast As you hop upon the green So come back to your old clay house And make it snug and warm And do not fear if you come near That we'll do you any harm An old legend says that when Christ hung on the cross, a robin came looking for a place to build its nest, and lit among the thorns in the crown on Christ's head. When the robin lit, it had a dirty grey-colored breast, but a drop of our Saviours blood splashed it, and it flew away with a crimson breast which has been its color ever since. 68. LINES ON FINDING A BUNCH OF WILD FLOWERS - Antrim Farm - April, 1905 I wandered by Lake Huron's shore Where oft times I had strayed before And cold Nor-western winds did blow From off the miles of ice and snow I took to wander 'mong the trees To miss the keen Nor-western breeze I thought the grass could not be green Nor any wild flowers would be seen But as I passed a sunny nook I suddenly did stop and look For I was taken by surprise There right before my very eyes And close beside a rotten log That lay along a springy bog A bunch of flowers did wave and nod And pointed upwards to our God Who made the flowers to love the light And dressed them in their colors bright Even Solomon in all his pride Could not be so dressed if he tried Not all the skill of human hand Could match those flowers just where they stand These first fruits of the summer's growth That April showers will make burst forth And tell us, if we wish to know Now is the time our seed to sow God's promises are still the same And "seed-time" sure has come again 69. ON FINDING A DAISY BY THE ROADSIDE - Antrim Farm - August, 1905 Busy doing road-work 'twas in the month July There, just beside the ditch we dug, a little flower we spy A little pale-faced flower, so sweet and tender too I said, "My little daisy, some cow will step on you" "How did you come sweet pale-face to grow here in the sod With not one of your family to give you nod for nod?" It said, "I do not fear the cows, they only eat the grass Quite short and close beside me; then away they pass How I came to grow alone? Well, a year ago last Spring A little bird nest-building and hurrying on the wing Had caught my dear dead mother to help build the nest A shake had made a seed fall out. I guess you know the rest The Great God sent the rain with sunshine bright and clear And then I bounded into life. That's how I'm growing here I do not feel it lonesome for God fills earth and sky So now I bloom my very best is how I'm going to try And when life's bloom is ended and my head is grayish-brown I'll bid good-bye to sun and sky and sweetly lay me down And mother earth will hold me close to her wondrous breast And softly will enfold me in my long eternal rest" Then I thought; why here's a lesson for all the human race Let each one do his very best if lowly be his place God's just as near in lowly home as in a stately hall And loves to give his guiding grace so freely unto all |
|