James McIntyre

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

James McIntyre Poems

121. Oxford Cheese Ode 1/3/2003
122. Patriotic Ode 5/4/2012
123. People Will Talk 5/4/2012
124. Poe 5/4/2012
125. Poetry 5/4/2012
126. Port Burwell 5/4/2012
127. Port Stanley 5/4/2012
128. Potato Bug Exterminators 5/4/2012
129. Prof. Longmuir 5/4/2012
130. Prologue 1/3/2003
131. Prophecy Of A Ten Ton Cheese 1/3/2003
132. Questions And Answers 5/4/2012
133. Rabbit Story 5/4/2012
134. Reminiscences 5/4/2012
135. Response To Sentiment Of Scottish Poets 5/4/2012
136. Robert Burns 5/4/2012
137. Robert Fleming Gourley 5/4/2012
138. Salford Parsonage 5/4/2012
139. Saxe 5/4/2012
140. Scottish Names In Oxford County 5/4/2012
141. Shelley 5/4/2012
142. Snake And Potato Bug 5/4/2012
143. St. Andrew And Halloween 5/4/2012
144. St. Andrews Anniversary 5/4/2012
145. St.Catharines 5/4/2012
146. St.Thomas 5/4/2012
147. T.D Mkee 5/4/2012
148. Tennyson 5/4/2012
149. Tercentenary Ode On Shakespeare 5/4/2012
150. The Brothers Stuart 5/4/2012
151. The Cheese Pionner 5/4/2012
152. The Great Fire Of Ingersoll 5/4/2012
153. The Joys Of Prairie Farmers 5/4/2012
154. The London Flood 5/4/2012
155. The Power Of Steam 5/4/2012
156. The Shires On The Moray Frith 5/4/2012
157. Thomas Campbell 5/4/2012
158. Tiger and Elephant 5/8/2015
159. Tom Moore 5/4/2012
160. Transformation Scene 5/4/2012
Best Poem of James McIntyre

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,
O'er cropped the weary land grew poor
And nearly barren as a moor,
But now the owners live at ease
Rejoicing in their crop of cheese.

And since they justly treat the soil,
Are well rewarded for their toil,
The land enriched by goodly cows,
Yie'ds plenty now to ...

Read the full of Oxford Cheese Ode

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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