Giraffe-Hunting in Central Africa, by Isaac McLellan
In far 'Mid-Africa, where woods
Illimitable w...
Flower Poems
The Glory of Autumn, by Isaac McLellan
The generous autumn days are come,
The merrie...
The Gorilla, by Isaac McLellan
High beats the hunter's heart when all the nigh...
The Hillside Rivulet, by Isaac McLellan
An Eden haunt, a charming fairy grot,
The an...
The Little Chickadee Warbler of the Winter Woods, by Isaac McLellan
The brown chickadee still chirps on the tree,
...
Long Island in Late October, by Isaac McLellan
October's flaming banners, of purple and of go...
My Dogs Sancho and Neptune, by Isaac McLellan
You know, my dear Sancho, the shooting is o'e...
Nature's Invitation, by Isaac McLellan
O'er the fair face of Nature let us muse,
And...
Speckled Bass at Lake Pepin, Minn., by Isaac McLellan
It is a fair, pellucid lake,
With towering b...
Tiger Hunting in India with Elephants, by Isaac McLellan
We cross'd a brawling mountain torrent, far
F...
Watching for Elephants at Night in South Africa, by Isaac McLellan
For days the hunter over open plains
Fring'd b...
The Whale, by Isaac McLellan
Sailing across the lonely seas,
Sailing acros...
Wild Pigeon, by Isaac McLellan
The autumn day is fleck'd with gold,
As slow ...
Winter Sports, by Isaac McLellan
Slow sinks the golden sun behind the woods,
T...
Vernal Equinox, by Jack Peachum
Peonies put forth new faces.
Underfoot, a car...
Adventures with Bears, by James McIntyre
I bought of land two miles square,
I knew not...
Bear Hunt, by James McIntyre
Two youths came over from York state,
Bill Br...
Birth of Canada as a Nation, July First, 1867, by James McIntyre
Hail Britannia's noblest daughter,
Who is sur...
Canadian Rivers and Lakes, by James McIntyre
We have here a sight as fair
As bonnie Doon or...
North-West Rebellion, 1885, by James McIntyre
Hail Canada our young fair land,
The world's ...
The Courtin', by James Russell Lowell
God makes sech nights, all white an' still
Fu...
The Singing Leaves, by James Russell Lowell
“ What fairings will ye that I bring?&rdq...
Divided, by Jean Ingelow
I An empty sky, a world of heather,
Purple ...
Remonstrance, by Jean Ingelow
Daughters of Eve! Your mother did not well:
S...
Sand Martins, by Jean Ingelow
I passed an inland-cliff precipitate;
From ti...