Thomas Cowherd
Thomas Cowherd Poems
I sing the Sewing Machine,
The blessings it brings to the fair.
Some of those blessings I've seen,
And therefore its praises declare.
...
Dear Bride of five-and-twenty years,
I gladly give to thee this song.
That thou wilt spurn it I've no fears,
For love still reigns within thee strong
...
Full thirty years of wedded bliss,
My darling wife, we have enjoyed;
And still I can with rapture kiss
Thy sweet, chaste lips-for I am void
...
Lily of the valley, this brief poetic sally
At the very least is due unto thee.
Thy fragrant wax-like flowers all freshened by Spring showers
Seem purity embodied unto me
...
Fire-fire-fire! Nigher still and nigher
Seem the tones of the 'Alarum bell' borne on the air!
Awaking with a start, what a sinking of the heart
Even the strong are apt to feel, ere they are well aware!
...
To the deep umbrage of our North back woods,
And near to Huron's wild romantic shore-
Where Winter's storms are seen in angry moods,
To make the Lake's waves dash with loudest roar-
...
A thousand joys, my darling wife,
Be thine on this our marriage day!
And now I'll sing; for such a life
As we have led deserves a lay
...
Ellen, on this glad occasion
I address to you a rhyme,
And in tones of sweet persuasion
Would advise you at this time
...
Dear friends, to this our social feast,
We bid you welcome gladly,
And trust you will not in the least
Spend moments with us sadly
...
Hail to thee, Humming Bird
Beauteous and bright,
That flitt'st like a spirit
Before my rapt sight!
...
Dear cousin, I hail you as Mother most brave,
Who crossed in mid-winter Atlantic's broad wave!
What you had to suffer in part I conceive,
Though no gloomy story you made me believe
...
An humble poet-save the mark!
Wishes to give to you a lay
In honor of your wedding day,
But somehow labors in the dark
...
Stern Winter on foul mischief bent
Left his cold region of the North;
As his Advance-guard early sent
Loud howling blasts and snow storms forth
...
I saw a youthful mother lie
Upon the bed of death.
No bitter tears bedimmed her eye
Though parents, spouse, and friends were nigh
...
Ida, it is a burning shame
That thy short, sweet poetic name
Has not a single lay called forth
From my cranium since thy birth!
...
Sweetly asleep is Mary Ann,
In calmest infantile repose
Her lovely face no longer wan,
Seems lovelier still when in a doze
...
Come, dove-eyed peace-offspring of heaven, descend;
Thy calm, sweet influence do thou me lend;
Dispel the gloom that broods upon my mind;
Bid melancholy flee; make me resigned
...
A task so painful, yet so justly due
To thee, my dear, my much respected Brother,
Rightly devolves on me whose heart beats true
In Zion's cause; yet, would it were another!
...
My dearest children, do you know
That best of all things here below,
And knowing, you should always show
To one another
...
Christians of Brantford, list awhile,
An humble Rhymer speaks to you.
Perhaps the fact may cause a smile,
Though I speak not from motives vile
...
Thomas Cowherd Biography
Thomas C. Cowherd (March 20, 1817 – April 4, 1907) was a tinsmith and poet. Cowherd was born in Kendal, Westmorland, England. He apprenticed as a tinsmith from age 13 to 20 in England. His family immigrated to Canada in 1837. Cowherd eventually settled on Colborne Street in Brantford, Ontario. He was President of the Brantford Branch Bible Society, President of the Brantford Mechanic's Institute and Literary Association, a school trustee, and was elected as a town councillor in 1869.He was a prolific poet and song writer. Much of his poetry appeared in newspapers. A collection, The Emigrant Mechanic and Other Tales in Verse", was published in 1884. His first marriage, to Ann Batty, produced five children. After her death, his second marriage, to Ann's sister Ellen, produced eleven more children. The Cowherd family were friends and associates of Alexander Graham Bell. Bell used the tinsmithing services of the Cowherds to help produce prototypes for the telephone, and to open the world's first telephone factory. He also called on them to string wire and to assist in demonstrations. Thomas spent many hours speaking with Alexander on the telephone between the Cowherd home in Brantford and the Bell Homestead. He died in Chatham, Ontario.)
The Best Poem Of Thomas Cowherd
The Sewing Machine
I sing the Sewing Machine,
The blessings it brings to the fair.
Some of those blessings I've seen,
And therefore its praises declare.
'Tis a curious thing
Of which I now sing,
And poets have sung it before me;
But if the theme's good,
'Twill be well understood
I'm right in prolonging the story.
Well finished Sewing Machine!
Whose form is so graceful and neat;
Thou of inventions art Queen,
And to look at thy work is a treat.
Each nice burnished wheel,
With the plate of pure steel,
Thy gold bedecked arms and the gauges,
All speak of the skill
Which the genius at will
Puts forth in the work that he wages.
Wonderful Sewing Machine!
No visions of gloom and despair
Float over my mind serene,
As I thy performance compare
To the old-fashioned stitch,
The dread sorrows which
Accompanied work by the fingers
Of those forced to sew
'Midst a life full of woe.
With pity my soul on it lingers.
Excellent Sewing Machine!
Thy musical click-a-click-click,
Removes far away the spleen
From those who of toiling are sick.
Thy task speeds along,
While the fair ones in song
Give vent to their feelings of gladness.
How diff'rent I ween
From the sight often seen
By HOOD with a heart full of sadness.
[Footnote: See 'Song of the Shirt.']
Dutiful Sewing Machine!
Now cheerfully stitching away,
Neatly and quickly, as seen
In the things by my wife made to-day;
Enraptured am I,
For no heart-bursting sigh
Escapes from the dear operator;
But a smile of delight
Is now alwavs in sight,
Of happiness sweet indicator.
Beautiful Sewing Machine!
How thankful am I to the man
Through many years who has been
Thus carefully forming thy plan!
May smiles from the fair,
Rid of much toil and care-
Shine on him, in moments of anguish.
May their tender hands
To obey his commands
Be ready, should he in life languish.
Thomas Cowherd Comments
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