James McIntyre Poems
|163.||Irish Poets: Oliver Goldsmith||1/3/2003|
|165.||Prophecy Of A Ten Ton Cheese||1/3/2003|
|166.||Ode On The Mammoth Cheese||1/3/2003|
|167.||American Poets: Longfellow||1/3/2003|
|168.||Oxford Cheese Ode||1/3/2003|
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 ...
If you are sulky, Nova Scotia,
We'll gladly let you float away
From out our Confederation;
You sicken us with sily agitation.
If any more our patience you do tax
We'll let you go to Halifax.