ant yell
Shrieked on the evening zephyr's swell;
But from her deck the cannon's din
Told Bytown that the boat was in,
And at the sound the signal man
His banner up the flagstaff ran.
It was a good old time when thou
Bought beavers at a price which now,
When beaver skins are somewhat rare,
Would cause even Chauncey Bangs to stare.
Yes, 'twas a fine old time for trade,
Money was plenty--easy made,
And thou wert, aye, a canine blade.
Patrick Delaney home has gone
From earthly toil, and he was one
Of those who in the distant past,
His lot in Upper Town had cast.
James Elder, a majestic Scot!
On whom of old it was my lot
To look with veneration's eye.
Kept Bytown's staid academy;
And here I dwell with fond delight,
And view again with memory's sight
The stately teacher in his chair,
King of the throng assembled there.
Now Allan Cameron comes to view,
And William Stubbs, there he is too.
Wellington Wright, too, I behold,
And wild Jack Adamson, the bold.
The Anderson's, both James and John,
And Stephen Lett, my mother's son,
Who stood upon Parnassus' crown
By might of Genius, and looked down
To where with errant steps I strayed
Around its base beneath the shade.
And many more were pupils there,
Where are they? "echo answers, where?"
In fancy I away have stepped
From where his school James Elder kept,
In that old house remembered well,
After, as Joseph Kirk's Hotel,
Ere it was haunted by a sound
Which shed such melody around,
Sweet almost as the songs of Zion,
From violin of Robinson Lyon,
Who drew such music from its strings,
Scotch reels, strathspeys and highland flings,
And Irish jigs in variation,
As made one feel that "all creation"
Could scarcely match his wizard spell,
'Twas he that played the fiddle well!
And Edward Malloch, gone to rest,
Was not the worst, nor yet the best,
Perhaps, 'mongst those of other days
To whom I dedicate these lays.
I knew him well in '25,
When Richmond Village was alive,
While Bytown's head was scarcely seen,
Emerging from the forest green.
A captain of Artillery
In '37's hot time was he,
When Louis Joseph Papineau
Sought British power to overthrow;
And William L. McKenzie tried
O'er loyalty and truth to ride;
Each found the path, for what he wanted,
Too hot to walk in--and "levanted;"
Von Shoultz, a soldier abler, riper,
Remained behind and "paid the piper!"
Even I, poetic man of peace,
Have often marched and stood at ease,
Beside the Richmond guns, brought h