James McIntyre

[The Cheese Poet] (25 May 1828 – 31 March 1906 / Forres, Scotland)

James McIntyre Poems

1. Lines On Beachville 5/4/2012
2. The Great Fire Of Ingersoll 5/4/2012
3. Tiger and Elephant 5/8/2015
4. Halloween 11/23/2015
5. Help In Need 2/3/2016
6. Potato Bug Exterminators 5/4/2012
7. Dried Apples 5/4/2012
8. Tercentenary Ode On Shakespeare 5/4/2012
9. Shelley 5/4/2012
10. Dryden And Pope 5/4/2012
11. Tom Moore 5/4/2012
12. Longfellow 5/4/2012
13. Walt Whitman 5/4/2012
14. Robert Burns 5/4/2012
15. Wars In Queen Victorias Reign 5/4/2012
16. The Shires On The Moray Frith 5/4/2012
17. St. Andrews Anniversary 5/4/2012
18. The Brothers Stuart 5/4/2012
19. Scottish Names In Oxford County 5/4/2012
20. Lines On Col. Wonham 5/4/2012
21. Lines 5/4/2012
22. Lineson Thorold 5/4/2012
23. Dr.Springer 5/4/2012
24. Galt And Dunlop 5/4/2012
25. Let Her Go 5/4/2012
26. Impromptu 5/4/2012
27. The Cheese Pionner 5/4/2012
28. Hope Macniven 5/4/2012
29. In Memoriam 5/4/2012
30. George Menzies Poems 5/4/2012
31. Female Revenge 5/4/2012
32. Lines On Corner Stone 5/4/2012
33. Robert Fleming Gourley 5/4/2012
34. Victoria Park And Caledonian Games 5/4/2012
35. Lines On Woodstock 5/4/2012
36. Lines On Thamesford 5/4/2012
37. Lines On Norwich 5/4/2012
38. Lines On Tilsonburg 5/4/2012
39. Donald Ross 5/4/2012
40. English Names On Canadian Thames 5/4/2012
Best Poem of James McIntyre

Ode On The Mammoth Cheese

We have seen the Queen of cheese,
Laying quietly at your ease,
Gently fanned by evening breeze --
Thy fair form no flies dare seize.

All gaily dressed soon you'll go
To the great Provincial Show,
To be admired by many a beau
In the city of Toronto.

Cows numerous as a swarm of bees --
Or as the leaves upon the trees --
It did require to make thee please,
And stand unrivalled Queen of Cheese.

May you not receive a scar as
We have heard that Mr. Harris
Intends to send you off as far as
The great World's show at Paris. ...

Read the full of Ode On The Mammoth Cheese

Oxford Cheese Ode

The ancient poets ne'er did dream
That Canada was land of cream,
They ne'er imagined it could flow
In this cold land of ice and snow,
Where everything did solid freeze,
They ne'er hoped or looked for cheese.

A few years since our Oxford farms
Were nearly robbed of all their charms,

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