One day, while passing 'long the road.
On a small book we almost trod;
Its leaves were scattered o'er the ground,
We picked them up, and when we found

The author's name, it did inspire
Us with a very strong desire
To read the little volume through,
For most of it to us was new.

He doth sing of land of heather,
And Canadian scenes together ;
He did adore Niagara's roar
Where mighty flood o'er falls doth pour.

But poet's lives are often brief,
And he lead his full share of grief-
Which to his life did gloom impart ;
But, he bore up with his brave heart.