Poems of James McIntyre Part 30

Once on a time a lady quarrelled With the witty Dougla.s.s Jerrold, Because that he had been so bold, To hint that she was growing old.

She said her hair was dark 'till one day She used an essence turned it gray, O, yes, said he, tincture of time Affects the hair in this our clime.

GOOD SHOT.

At great reunion of the South, Of those had faced the cannon's mouth, Where each could show a glorious scar He had received in the war.

And there was an artillery major, Said he, I am free to wager I fired the best shot in the war, And fame of it was heard afar.

The Federals fired at us a sh.e.l.l, And near our battery it fell, It gave us momentary alarm, But it caused us little harm.

For the fuse it ceased to burn, And I resolved sh.e.l.l to return To the same spot from whence it came, I put in fuse was sure to flame.

From mortar's mouth it went forth Seeking for vengeance on the North, And this swift messenger from South It entered their great cannon's mouth.

And blew the gun all into atoms, Which left desolate many homes, But North had justice on her side.

In truth and virtue was her pride.

And high Heaven had well decreed That the poor slave he should be freed, And even the South doth prosper more With freedom than she did before.

LOST SON FOUND.

An English ship when homeward bound, Near to its port was shipwrecked found, For it had struck a sunken rock, And was slowly sinking from the shock.

In port they quick did man life boat, Which o'er tempestuous sea did float, They rescued all the crew, save one, And were content with what they done.

But they had not their captain, Harry, Who on the sh.o.r.e was forced to tarry, And knew not of the disaster, So crew had worked without a master.

But when he heard of the shipwreck, And that a man was left on deck, He quickly hurried the boat's crew For to again attempt his rescue.

But earnestly his old mother, Reminded him of his lost brother, Perhaps drowned in foreign sea, She cried, son, stay and comfort me.

But wreck they reach and rescue man, And thrill of joy o'er city ran, When it was found 'twas Harry's brother, Had returned to comfort mother.

Thus providence rewards the brave Who strive their fellow men to save, The mother's griefs it did a.s.suage, And happy now is her old age.

SHOE BLACK.

Gent on sidewalk held out his foot While boy in gutter brushed his boot, But at this time, how sad, alas, An unruly horse did o'er him pa.s.s.

The child for friends he sad did lack, They said he was but a s...o...b..ack, Kind hearted man the poor child bore, To a soft cot in back of store.

And brought from hospital ward A skilful nurse the lad to guard, She often listened for his breath, As he was pa.s.sing the vale of death.

But, poor child, once he ope'd his eyes, And he looked round in great surprise, Feebly he asked, heaving a sigh, Where in the world now am I.

The tender nurse bent o'er his face, And said, dear boy, you're in good place, She asked his name, he said it was Tom, And that for long he had no home.

And since his mother was stricken dead, He had not once reposed in bed, And while suffering child did rack, He eagerly asked will mother come back.

The nurse she gently answered, no, But, to your dear mother you can go, In his last sleep he had a dream, Shining up boots it was his theme.

He soon awoke and called out, mother, I see you and little brother, Christ, I know, has me forgiven, For they are beckoning me to Heaven.

DUCK AND OYSTER.

Once on a time there lived a duck, And by its fishing it did thrive; So one day it longed to suck An oyster and for one did dive.

The oyster near sh.o.r.e lay open, The duck, its gizzard for to fill, Resolved that he would pop in Between the sh.e.l.ls his sharp bill.

And then he would have glorious treat, But oyster closed on it its sh.e.l.l, And duck it got no oyster meat, But worse than that the duck befell.

This oyster was so very large, It held the duck's head under water, And towed small oysters like a barge, Each one clung to it like squatter.

Duck it died of too much moisture, And it floated towards the beach, And to its bill clung big oyster, Sticking to it like a horse leach.

On the sh.o.r.e there stood a shyster, Watching fat duck floating to him, And the wondrous big oyster, How fine it would be to stew them.

Alas the duck lost its dinner, And at the same time lost its life, But on it dined a hungry sinner, Who did reap all the spoils of strife.

For when the duck to land did float, It towed small oysters not a few, For it sailed like to a boat, With fat duck pie and oyster stew.

None can the poor duck's fate bewail, For it reckoned without its host, It strove for conquest and did fail, Fighting for spoil it battle lost.

You see the wild duck did not know, When it attacked the big oyster, It had to fight a numerous foe, Of these sh.e.l.l fish a whole cl.u.s.ter.

Borne feathers on briny billow, They were full of springy down, And they made a glorious pillow, Where fellow he could rest his crown.

This chap he did not plow nor sow, But from sea and land he did reap The wealth that others caused to grow, And thus he treasures up did heap.