Hope Macniven
Mr. Hope Macniven, of Ingersoll, had the pleasure in his
younger days, during the first quarter of the present
century, of seeing and hearing many of the most eminent
men in Britain. He heard Doctor Chalmers and Edward Irving preach, before Irving went to London, where he became so famous ;
he saw on the stage those eminent tragedians, the elder and the younger
Kean; he was also fortunate enough to have seen Sir Walter Scott and
Thomas Campbell, the author of the 'Pleasures of Hope' and 'Exile of Erin ;'
And he also saw, in Glasgow, the distinguished author of 'Virginius,'
Sheridan Knowles, famous also man Elocutionist ; he had an opportunity of
frequently seeing Lord Brougham, and Lord Byron's friend, Sir John Cam.
Hobhouse ; he also beheld the burly figure of that bold champion of popular
rights, William Cobbett; and was in close intimacy with Henry Scott Riddel,
author of that magnificent song ' Scotland Yet,' Mr. Macniven sent a copy
of his poems to that distinguished statesman, W. E. Gladstone, and received
a letter of thanks, under the seal of the Royal arms, with the Premier of Great
Britain's autograph attached; he received a similar mark of favor from Lord
Lorne. Mr. Macniven has had the honor of conversing with the brillant D'Arcy
MacGee, and of an intimate acquaintance with A. McLauglan and Evan McCol,
and Hamilton's sweetest song writer, William Murray. The late Mrs. Macniven
published a small volume of poems some 20 years ago.
poem by James McIntyre
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Burns and Scott
Meeting of Burns and Scott in Edinburgh.
When Burns did make triumphant entry
'Mong Edina's famous gentry,
A discussion did there arise
Among those solons, learned and wise,
About some lines by a new poet ;
The author's name none did know it.
Poem was of Canadian snow,
And how o'er it the blood did flow,
For it had then been swept by war,
Where armies met in deadly jar.
But, 'mong philosphers, was boy
Of tender years, now Scotland's joy ;
He there did quickly quote each line,
And author's name he did define.
Burns glanced at him, with loving eyes,
Youth ever more that look did prize
The happiest moment in his lot ;
Ever revered by Walter Scott,
Thus Scotland's greatest poets met,
And they did part with sad regret.
poem by James McIntyre
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Scottish Names in Oxford County
We have the Murray and McKay
From the country of Lord Rae ; *
McKenzie too from many a loch,
From Dingwall, Fain, and old Dornoch.
*Lord Rae, chief of the clan McKay. The family formerly owned large estates
in Sutherland, which they lost. The present Lord Rae was born in Holland,
and he married a rich lady with an estate near Edinburgh. He is one of the
foremost scientific men in Britain at the present time, and he frequently presides
at assemblies both in London and Edinburgh for the advancement of education
and science.
poem by James McIntyre
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Gordon Cumming - The Lion Hunter
Some thirty years ago, in conversation with an old sea
captain who had visited or voyaged to all quarters of the
globe, he was denouncing fiercely the degeneracy of these
costermonger times. He said there was a book in our
town library which was a tissue of falsehood from begin-
ning to end, and that there never existed such a man as
Gordon Cumming, the Lion Hunter. I told the old gen-
tleman that I had seen the Lion Hunter hundreds of
times and conversed with him in the woods of Aylter,
and that be was a descendant of the Royal Comyn, one
of whom was killed by King Robert the Bruce, and that
I had seen the magnificent person of Gordon Cumming in
the garb of old Gaul, successfully punish a huge prize
fighter who kept grossly insulting him during the excite-
ment of a general election-when Cumming's uncle,
Major Cumming Bruce, was running for member, this
Major being father-in-law to Lord Elgin, formerly Gov-
ernor of Canada. I also told him that Hugh Millar was
a warm friend of the Lion Hunter's mother, as she was
distinguished both as a geologist and a botanist, and that
Livingstone, the great traveller, was a great admirer and
intimate friend of the Hunter. After his return to
Britain he exhibited himself and his magnificent trophies
throughout all the cities and towns of Britain and Ireland.
His own noble figure in full Highland costume was perhaps no
insignificant part of the exhibition. Barnum afterwards
secured the noble specimens of hides and horns and monstrous
tusks for his New York museum.
Now the youth in fertile Moray
Do in Gordon Cumming glory,
Bold lion hunter-first who made
With Africa tribes successful trade ;
First in those wilds to fire a gun,
While he the mighty trophies won.
The moat celebrated lady traveller in Britain is Miss
Cumming, a niece of the Lion Hunter. She has written
several volumes of her travels in distant lands.
poem by James McIntyre
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In Uncertain Times
With a heavy heart I’ve implored, help and direction from my Lord,
In this present time, very dark ahead, I look unto The Lord instead,
With so much present uncertainty, the future is not so clear to me,
So my God’s favor I will entreat, as His Love and Mercy is replete.
For me, it’s God who will provide, while in God’s Grace I do abide,
Grace sufficient for all His own, guiding believers from His Throne,
Always, our Lord, Christ Jesus, is the One, Who sustains all of us,
For God’s honor and His praise, as He leads us through our days.
These days, faith in Christ is a must, when in God I place my trust,
Who alone has the perfect plan, for each and every believing man;
His plan for me may not be clear, but as God’s child I needn’t fear,
As God’s plan is to prosper me, in ways, today that I may not see.
About those things I don’t know, to The Lord, my thoughts will go,
Reminding me of days gone by, when Christ led me from on High,
Through those times, dark as night, with God’s Word, as my Light,
Remembering times of the past, my present cares, to God I’ll cast.
And so with Him, Who changes not, God alone, Who casts my lot,
While on this path, I must take, I know, my God makes no mistake,
So I look not to man, but to Christ, Who is the Author of all my life,
And knowing Christ as my Lord, my heart, once again is reassured.
(Copyright ©03/2010)
For Britain Only
We blasted Glasgow
Invaded France
Assaulted Sweden
Took down our pants
And lovely England
My little kitten
Deliriously
Black widow Bitten
For Britain only
Only for Britain, yeah
For Britain only
Only for Britain
Jumped on the concord
Ain't much for sittin'
I told my boys, now
No public spiting
No bar room fighting
No bad head splitting
Behave yourself 'cause we're, we're back in Britain
For Britain only
Only for Britain
Cost six years of time and space
It took so long to change his face
To redesign his streamline face
Now strong and sleek but still no taste
Guilty
I'm guilty
Won't go to Hungary
Iran is out
Welcome to Moscow, huh
I have my doubts
Can't get near Libya
That boy's insane
Let's head for London
Where we can scream again
For Britain only
Only for Britain, yeah
For Britain only
Only for Britain
For Britain only
song performed by by Alice Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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But let her remember, that it is in Britain alone, that laws are equally favourable to liberty and humanity; that it is in Britain the sacred rights of nature have received their most awful ratification.
quote by Thomas Day
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Thomas Campbell
As musings on Banks of Canadian Thames doth not necessarily consist of
meditations in verse, but the monotony of the cogitations may be relieved by a
soliloquy in prose, and as Campbell manifested a deep interest in American subjects,
we will give the following anecdote related by that genial American Author Washington
Irvine, to Sir Walter Scott. Irvine, while in Britian, visited Campbell, but found him absent
and he expressed a regret to Campbells wife that her husband did not write more. She said
that he was timid and he felt Byron and Scott o'ershadow him with their great poems. Sir
Walter replied, ' I myself produce pebbles, Scottish pebbles, but Campbell is the creator of
Diamonds of the first water.' Byron also expressed himself in a similar strain as follows :-
'Arise, O Campbell, give thy talents scope ;
Who dares aspire if thou has ceased to hope '
Campbell wrote thus of America in the beginning of the century, and by comparing the facts
as he describes them it shows the wonderous strides which the United States, especially,
have taken on the Banks of Lake Erie, as Lake Ontario seems to be favorite location for
Canadian cities.
On Erie's banks were tigers steal along,
And the dread Indian chaunts his dismal song.
Where human fiends their midnight errand walk ;
And bathe in brains the murderous tomehawk.
The poet then predicts that cities will there arise, but more wonderfully quick they have
arisen then poets pen ever imagined. The poet also imagines the time will come when the
fleecy flocks will be straying o'er the thymey pastures and the shepherds dancing at early
morn and dewy eve, but alas, these predictions have never been verified, for the lands on
Erie's shores are too valuable for sheep walks, and it is no Arcadian bower where the
romance of the dreamy imaginations of the ancient philosophers are being enacted, but a
vigorous, intelligent, and industrious population have arisen, who have built villages,
towns and cities along its shores. But the foundation of the whole prosperity is the
intelligent, well directed industry of the farming population.
Their industry is not in vain,
For they have bounteous crops of grain,
And you behold on every field
Of grass and roots, abundant yield ;
But after all the greatest charm
Is the snug home upon the farm.
And stone walls now keep cattle warm,
The cold blast now doth them no harm.
poem by James McIntyre
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Glasgow
Beautiful city of Glasgow, with your streets so neat and clean,
Your stateley mansions, and beautiful Green!
Likewise your beautiful bridges across the River Clyde,
And on your bonnie banks I would like to reside.
Chorus --
Then away to the west -- to the beautiful west!
To the fair city of Glasgow that I like the best,
Where the River Clyde rolls on to the sea,
And the lark and the blackbird whistle with glee.
'Tis beautiful to see the ships passing to and fro,
Laden with goods for the high and the low;
So let the beautiful city of Glasgow flourish,
And may the inhabitants always find food their bodies to nourish.
Chorus
The statue of the Prince of Orange is very grand,
Looking terror to the foe, with a truncheon in his hand,
And well mounted on a noble steed, which stands in the Trongate,
And holding up its foreleg, I'm sure it looks first-rate.
Chorus
Then there's the Duke of Wellington's statue in Royal Exchange Square --
It is a beautiful statue I without fear declare,
Besides inspiring and most magnificent to view,
Because he made the French fly at the battle of Waterloo.
Chorus
And as for the statue of Sir Walter Scott that stands in George Square,
It is a handsome statue -- few with it can compare,
And most elegant to be seen,
And close beside it stands the statue of Her Majesty the Queen.
Chorus
And then there's the statue of Robert Burns in George Square,
And the treatment he received when living was very unfair;
Now, when he's dead, Scotland's sons for him do mourn,
But, alas! unto them he can never return.
Chorus
Then as for Kelvin Grove, it is most lovely to be seen
With its beautiful flowers and trees so green,
And a magnificent water-fountain spouting up very high,
Where the people can quench their thirst when they feel dry.
Chorus
Beautiful city of Glasgow, I now conclude my muse,
And to write in praise of thee my pen does not refuse;
And, without fear of contradiction, I will venture to say
You are the second grandest city in Scotland at the present day!
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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Another Day For The Lord
Another day is over my dear friend with another tomorrow to come,
Sometimes I wish it all would end and The Lord would simply come.
For when Truth by men goes ignored the day becomes far from fun.
But I need to labor for The Lord until my time on this earth is done.
For I remember when I was blind and the Christians I used to mock.
And The Lord sent to me someone kind to help me known The Rock.
Now friend, I need to do my part and with love lend a helping hand.
Especially to one with an open heart in hope that they understand.
What a blessing that would be to see a friend or coworker change.
And hear them as they believe, say that I wasn’t really so strange.
That will mean one more voice lifting up The Lord’s Blessed Name.
And with this one eternal choice another life will never be the same.
Friend, how can anyone believe, if God’s Truth they haven’t heard?
And this Truth that we have received is God’s Eternal Living Word.
Beautiful are the feet of those, who preach to others His Good News.
That’s one more soul that God knows for The Kingdom He can use.
Together we can reach the world with The Gospel of God’s Grace,
With the blessed news to herald, that Jesus Christ died in our place.
Friend, if only faithful we can be, from this present day to the end,
Then Jesus will say to you and me, well done my dear faithful friend.
Poem about Poetry - Best and Worst Poems
if i ever be famous
with my poems
well, i would come
out with collections
of my best poems for
hordes of ardent readers
if i ever be famous
with my poems
i would also surprise
readers with collections
of my worst poems
and i am sure
they would sell too
everybody loves to see
the unsavoury side of
a famous personality
it is news in fact
we all have to start
from somewhere
good, bad or ugly
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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A Most Famous I Am Poem
The most famous 'I Am' poem came from the pen of John Clare
When in Northampton mental asylum his type of person rare
Since when mentally unwell his best poems he did pen
One of the most amazing in his time of literary men.
The most famous 'I Am' poem of self does not boast
From the pen of one who to self never drunk a toast
A poor and mentally ill and near forgotten man
One close to the end of his tragic life span.
The most famous 'I Am' poem to it has a sad ring
'Tis not of the wonderful life it does sing
Now used as the anthem poem of the mentally ill
The most famous 'I Am' poem life's cup of dark sorrows does fill.
The most famous 'I Am' poem not a great song of life
But of one who had struggled with his inner strife
From the heart of a poor poet a cry of despair
The most famous 'I Am' poem from the pen of John Clare.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Lorne and Louise
Lines written on the arrival of Governor Lorne and the Princess Louise in Canada.
The tidings now all hearts do please
That she has landed safe-Louise,
Victoria's beloved daughter
Who boldly has crossed the water.
For Royal Princess doth adorn
The title of the Lord of Lorne,
For this union it doth join
Campbell with Royal Stuart line.
Lorne will be Duke of broad Argyle
And the lord of many an isle.
When he inherits broad domain
May he strive tennants' hearts to gain.
To us it seems a brighter morn
Hath dawned on us with Governor Lorne.
poem by James McIntyre
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Be Prepared With a Reason
Be prepared in and out of season, to give all men a heartfelt reason,
For all the peace you have within, through the hope you have in Him.
The Hope we have in Jesus Christ, the sure hope of an Eternal Life,
An Eternal Life with Christ our Lord, in Heaven with Him forevermore.
We must point all men to the cross, that place of comfort for the lost,
Where Christ had died for all of us, where all believers put their trust.
Friend, our trust is in The Sacrifice, of God’s Only Son, Jesus Christ,
The Sinless Lamb for sinful men, The Lord who died for all my friend.
Christ gives to believers a New Birth, while we’re still upon this earth,
Upon the moment that we believed, The Holy Spirit we then received.
The Spirit was sent by Jesus Christ, for guiding us in this present life,
To guide us through all the years, until that day when Christ appears.
Friend, all our hope is found in Him, The One who died for all our sin,
And this hope we have my friend, unlike life on earth, shall never end.
When Christ died and rose again, He secured eternal life for all men,
And very soon Believers shall rise, to meet our Lord above the skies.
Friend, our Hope is really a guarantee, that we shall live for Eternity,
The Hope in what we can not see, through Christ will become reality.
And this Hope is for all my friend, for life on this earth is not the end,
Today put your hope in Jesus Christ, and you will inherit Eternal Life.
(Copyright ©01/2006)
On Reading Poems And Songs Of Burns
The poems and songs of Robert Burns are still living
And though his body died more than two hundred years ago
His spirit and his soul will live forever
You will find them where the Afton Waters flow.
He was the pride of Scotland Robert Burns
The greatest of his clan and of his race
And along with Walter Scott he ranks as his Country's greatest
And in literature he commands the highest place.
'For Auld Lang Syne' will surely live forever
As Robert Burns gift to the New Year
When you attend a new year celebration
More likely than not Lang Syne you will hear.
His great poems To a Mouse and To a Mountain Daisy
His haunting ballad to his Red Red Rose
The great poet living in his songs and verses
And the legend that grew with him grows and grows.
You see the music in the poems of Burns
He was more than a peasant man of rhyme
He was a humanitarian and a great poet
The lesser bards have faded out in time.
He died in poverty but he is famous
His songs and verses known and sung World-wide
The fame of Burns will live on forever
He brought to Scotland patriotic pride.
From Alloway In Ayrshire Robert Burns
His legacy the marvellous gift of song
The Scottish his birthday and birthplace honour
But to all peoples his verses belong.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Poem: Joyful, Patient and Faithful
Lord, keep me ever mindful and joyful,
knowing that You are the True source of my hope.
With Your daily mercies, renew my spirit
with a resolute perspective, based on The Word.
Lord, remind me to always be patient,
since my pain pales in comparison to any…
of the afflictions suffered by You
on my behalf during Your crucifixion at Calvary.
Lord, teach me to be faithful in prayer.
I know that my voice will be heard, when I'm…
lovingly covered by Your grace and righteousness.
Let all of my prayers, be pleasing unto Thee.
Author Notes:
Loosely based on:
Rom 12: 12; Psa 51: 10-12; Isa 53: 4; Prov 15: 29
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http: //www.squidoo.com/book-isbn-1419650513/
By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2012, All rights reserved.
poem by Joseph James Breunig 3rd
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Sketch of Lord Byron's Life
"Lord Byron" was an Englishman
A poet I believe,
His first works in old England
Was poorly received.
Perhaps it was "Lord Byron's" fault
And perhaps it was not.
His life was full of misfortunes,
Ah, strange was his lot.
The character of "Lord Byron"
Was of a low degree,
Caused by his reckless conduct,
And bad company.
He sprung from an ancient house,
Noble, but poor, indeed.
His career on earth, was marred
By his own misdeeds.
Generous and tender hearted,
Affectionate by extreme,
In temper he was wayward,
A poor "Lord" without means;
Ah, he was a handsome fellow
With great poetic skill,
His great intellectual powers
He could use at his will.
He was a sad child of nature,
Of fortune and of fame;
Also sad child to society,
For nothing did he gain
But slander and ridicule,
Throughout his native land.
Thus the "poet of the passions,"
Lived, unappreciated, man.
Yet at the age of 24,
"Lord Byron" then had gained
The highest, highest, pinacle
Of literary fame.
Ah, he had such violent passions
They was beyond his control,
Yet the public with its justice,
Sometimes would him extol.
Sometimes again "Lord Byron"
Was censured by the press,
Such obloquy, he could not endure,
So he done what was the best.
He left his native country,
This great unhappy man;
The only wish he had, "'tis said,"
He might die, sword in hand.
He had joined the Grecian Army;
This man of delicate frame;
And there he died in a distant land,
And left on earth his fame.
"Lord Byron's" age was 36 years,
Then closed the sad career,
Of the most celebrated "Englishman"
Of the nineteenth century.
poem by Julia A Moore
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Lord Of All
Intro
Lord, I dedicate this song to you
Thank you for the oppourtunity to share my gift of song with the world
You created me and this ability I possess to express everything I am and hope
To be through music
I know that without you Im nothing
And I know in my heart I just wanna say that now and forevre you shall be
Lord of all in my life
Verse 1
Maker of the heavens, artist the sea
Creator of the sunshine and the sculptor of me
But still they laugh and mock you
Some dont believe and they fail to realize that you reign eternally
Chours
Lord of all, holy and exalted
You still reign upon the throne
Lord of all, high and lifted up
You shall always be lord of all
Verse 2
There are those who pray to dead idols
Cause they believe that they will come again
But soon they will all bow down and worship the lamb
And prclaim that he is lord
Messiah, my lord
Messiah, my lord
Messiah, my lord
You shall always be lord of all
(modulate and repeat 2x)
You shall always be lord of all
song performed by by Kelly Price
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Lord Alone
It is The Lord and Him alone, behind how much I have grown,
Just how I've grown spiritually, since meeting God at Calvary,
Saving me, so spiritually lost, while the Lord paid all the cost,
Saving me from my life of sin, to gain a new life all from Him.
It was God, Who set me free, to put me on my way to eternity,
He had set me free in this life, to follow my Lord, Jesus Christ.
Indwelt with The Spirit of God, to guide me on this earthly sod,
Guided out of the spiritual night, to walk in His Truth and Light.
It is my Lord Who walks with me, while on an ordained destiny,
My destiny prescribed by Christ, Who is The Author of my life,
The Author and Sustainer of, my life, through His power above,
Sustaining me in times of trial, by His power, there is no denial.
It is The Lord, my dear friend, Who shall lead me up to the end,
And at every bend I'm assured, that I'm in the hand of my Lord,
Guided by His Love and Care, Christ goes with me everywhere,
Wherever I journey, I understand, I'm forever in my Lord's hand.
While I'm in God's hand forever, I'm without His presence never,
As Christ's Spirit helps me grow, in ways, that He's yet to show,
This as my God sustains my life, in this world of pain and strife,
As I journey towards Paradise, because The Lord paid the price.
(Copyright ©10/2012)
The Funeral of the Late Ex-Provost Rough, Dundee
'Twas in the year of 1888, and on the 19th of November,
Which the friends of the late Ex-Provost Rough will long remember,
Because 'twas on the 19th of November his soul took its flight
To the happy land above, the land of pure delight.
Take him for all in all, he was a very good man,
And during his Provostship he couldn't be equalled in Great Britain,
Which I proclaim to the world without any dread,
Because while Provost he reduced the public-houses to three hundred.
Whereas at the time there were 620 public-houses in the town,
But being a friend of the temperance cauae he did frown,
Because he saw the evils of intemperance every day
While sitting on the bench, so he resolved to sweep public-houses away.
And in doing so the good man, in my opinion, was right,
Because the evils of intemperance is an abomination in God's sight;
And all those that get drunk are enemies to Him,
Likewise enemies to Christ's kingdom, which is a great sin.
The late Ex-Provost Rough was President of the Dundee Temperance Society,
An office which he filled with great ability;
Besides Vice-President of the Scottish Temperance League for many years,
And no doubt the friends of temperance for his loss will shed tears.
Because many a hungry soul he relieved while in distress,
And for doing so I hope the Lord will him bless,
For his kindness towards the poor people in Dundee,
Besides for his love towards the temperance cause, and his integrity.
And when the good man's health began to decline
The doctor ordered him to take each day two glasses of wine,
But he soon saw the evil of it, and from it he shrunk,
The noble old patriarch, for fear of getting drunk.
And although the doctor advised him to continue taking the wine,
Still the hero of the temperance cause did decline,
And told the doctor he wouldn't of wine take any more,
So in a short time his spirit fled to heaven, where all troubles are o'er.
I'm sure very little good emanates from strong drink,
And many people, alas! it leads to hell's brink!
Some to the scaffold, and some to a pauper's grave,
Whereas if they would abstain from drink, Christ would them save.
'Twas on Friday afternoon, in November the 23rd day,
That the funeral cortege to the Western Cemetery wended its way,
Accompanied by the Magistrates, and amongst those present were-
Bailie Macdonald and Bailie Black, also Lord Provost Hunter I do declare.
There were also Bailie Foggie, Bailie Craig, and Bailie Stephenson,
And Ex-Provost Moncur, and Ex-Provost Ballingall representing the Royal Orphan Institution;
Besides there were present the Rev. J. Jenkins and the Rev. J. Masson,
With grief depicted in their faces and seemingly woe-begone.
There were also Mr Henry Adams, representing the Glover trade,
Also Mr J. Carter, who never was afraid
To denounce strong drink, and to warn the people from it to flee,
While agent of the Temperance Society in Dundee.
And when the funeral cortege arrived at the Western burying-ground,
Then the clergyman performed the funeral service with a solemn sound;
While from the eyes of the spectators fell many a tear
For the late Ex-Provost Rough they loved so dear.
And when the coffin was lowered into its house of clay,
Then the friends of the deceased homewards wended their way,
Conversing on the good qualities of the good man,
Declaring that the late Ex-Provost Rough couldn't be equalled in Great Britain.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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The Ever-Diminishing Half-Life of Immortality
Being a famous author
certainly isn't
what it used to be.
In 1969, the term 'supernova'
best described Richard Brautigan.
In 1984, he was reduced to a twinkle
in the smog-choked sky.
In 2019, when the last remaining copy of
Trout Fishing in America is sold
for a quarter at a Friends of the Library sale
in Yakima, Washington
he will officially be designated
as a black hole.
poem by David Kowalczyk
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