In this quiet spot this day of June, Which will not be forgotten soon, For when your little church on hill You overflowingly did fill, You then resolved there should arise Church worthy of your enterprise, You've laid foundation broad and deep, And showers of blessings may you reap.

Craft of King Hiram and Saint John Have come to lay the corner stone, At the call of our Grand Master Who was invited by your pastor, With silver trowel all so fair He laid foundation on the square, May you be blessed with Christian love, And we all meet in Lodge above.

LINES ON METHODIST UNION, SEPTEMBER, 1883.

A pleasing sight to-day we see, Four churches joined in harmony, There difference was but trivial, But strove each other to outrival.

In friendship now they do unite, And Satan only they do fight, And they'll plant churches in North West, Where they can serve the Lord the best.

CREDIT VALLEY TRIP.

The Credit Valley Railway Company having placed a car at the service of the council we were kindly invited to accompany them to Toronto.

Whene'er we take a tour abroad We love to travel o'er new road, Where scenery to us is new And landscape pleasing to the view, When invited for to rally And take a trip on Credit Valley, We resolved for to afford A day with Council and School Board, For to view the rural charms Of hills and dales and fertile farms, With joy we saw the sunbeams gleam On Grand River beauteous stream, And those perpendicular walls Of rock, like old baronial halls, We saw the great lake ebb and flow, And queen city of Ontario, While some enjoyed the genial smile Of Hanlon on his lake girt isle, Returning home each one exclaims "Happiest spot is banks of Thames."

EAGLE AND SALMON.

Wilmot of fish culutre fame, To this tale he lends his name, A pair of eagles built their nest On a lofty pine tree's crest.

And therein they regular rear A brood of young year after year, One day he saw one leave its nest, When for food it was in quest.

It did wing its flight on high, And then on water cast its eye, When it quickly did discover A great salmon in the river.

Like lightning flash down it doth sweep And its talons it buries deep, In salmon of enormous size He trys to rise in air with prize.

But all in vain he quickly found He could not carry thirty pound, And had bit more than he could chew For in the air no more he flew.

Wilmot he did gaze with wonder At the spot where he went under, Resolved to know what was the matter He poled his boat o'er the water.

And he looked down and there he found That the eagle it was drowned, And its wings in part outspread, But alas it was quite dead.

With grappling hook he drew him out, But attached to him was monster trout, Eagle could not extract his claws, And this the death of both did cause.

CAPTAIN'S ADVENTURE.

Three years ago my vessel lay In a port of Hudson Bay, I started off for the trading post, But on the way back I then got lost.

And the thought soon gave me the blues, Trudging along on my snow shoes, Over the wastes of drifting snow, While the wind it did fiercely blow.

I feared that I would be froze hard, For it was a fearful blizzard, I was growing faint and weary, Not the slightest hopes to cheer me.

Without compa.s.s to bearing, My yells were beyond crews' hearing, But at last to my loud halloo There came a mournful ho, ho.

From creature white I thought 'twas ghost, And that I was forever lost, I heard horrid creature flutter, As it those strange sounds did utter.

At last I found that all this howl Was from a n.o.ble large white owl, And a happy apparition, So runs the Indian tradition.

It guides the lost one in distress And leads him out of wilderness, This strange bird I soon follow, And it still kept up its halloo.

It seem'd that it cried to cheer me, I thought the ship was now near me, As I walked o'er the banks of snow I kept up a feeble halloo.

And but a little ways beyond From my own crew I got respond, With joy I was received by crew, So happy all at my rescue.

It must be that some gentle soul Did then inhabit that strange fowl, But O to me 'twas wondrous fair, For it thus saved me from despair.

The man's my foe who now doth growl At the strange sounds made by the owl, The sailors all they took delight To feed this bird so pure and white.

But soon the poor bird was o'erfed, Early one morn we found it dead, And my breast it heaved with sighs, And the tears poured from mine eyes.

But precious relic in gla.s.s case I oft gaze on its kindly face, And grateful memories it brings, When I behold its glorious wings.

To stuff such birds I knew the art On it I worked with my whole heart, To preserve each grace and feature Full of charms to me is creature.

INDIAN ROMANCE.

We know a hill is smooth and round, Where Indian relics may be found, This hill it hath a history, Though enveloped in mystery.

All the youth do fondly glory For to read an Indian story, This hill was ancient camping ground, In creek near by did trout abound.

And from hill top they caught a gleam Of the river's broader stream, They came in their birch bark canoes Into this place of rendezvous.

When States did Canada invade, Great Indian host was here arrayed, Here they rallied from near and far, In eighteen hundred and twelve war.

Chief big Wolfe led them on to war, And bade farewell to morning star, He wedded her one year before, And her he fondly did adore.

To him she never seemed so sweet, Her dress had beads worked o'er so neat, And her toilet to complete, Grand moccasins upon her feet.

Tribe marches and they boldly fight, Longside of Brock on Queenstown height, With glory they do return crowned, Into the hill so smooth and round.

Here big Wolfe drank much fire water, And it led to his own slaughter, His death alas did blast and mar, And dimmed the light of morning star.