Author: Andrew Porteus

Andrew Porteus is a retired librarian who started the Niagara Falls Poetry Project in 1998 in order to gather in one place the hundreds of poems that exist about Niagara Falls. Andrew returned to Brock University to get a Master of Art degree based on the website

The Chippawa Creek by Anonymous

chippawa creek
Chippawa Creek, c.1900. Copy from an unknown source by Donna Campbell, 1975. Image courtesy of Niagara Falls Public Library

As the Chippawa Creek crept along by its banks,
Or, as poets would say, “was a-flowing,”
Though a fish that had spent his whole life in its stream
Could scarce tell you which way it was going,

And this fine gold-laced frog leaped lively about,
Quite gay in his gaudy green coat,
Or the large one in brown made the echoes resound
With the sound of his harsh-croaking throat:

In some places it widened and spread into swamps;
Near the shore it was green, tinged with yellow,
And the mud-turtles crawled, or were perched on old logs,
And the ater-snake basked in the shallow;

And slowly it wended by many a bend,
Till it reached the Niagara’s shore,
And ventured, though shy, its fortune to try,
To join in the river’s rude roar.

Then onward it sped to the loud-sounding fall,
For vain was its puny resistance;
Nay, it seemed to be pleased, as it felt itself eased
Of its former dull sluggish existence.

And it wimpled and danced in many a swirl,
As it ran to the cataract’s roar;
Yet it seemed much to doubt, nor ventured far out,
But kept close to the Canada shore.

Now it neared the rude rock where the traveler oft stands,
At the end of long-nursed Ideality,
And sees with surprise to his wondering eyes
That description has beggared reality.

Still it clung to the shore, and seemed much to dread
That it would soon become a nonentity,
And strove to the last, though hurrying fast
To where it must lose its identity.

And onward it came to the horrible leap,
Yet still midst the rush and confusion,
Its stream you could mark by the matter so dark
That it carried and held in solution.

So a silly young mouse sometimes strays from the nest,
Or perhaps a young frolicsome rat,
And play, till at last they find themselves fast
In the claws of a merciless cat;

Or perhaps a young man leaves his peaceful abode,
And trusts to some frolicsome friend;
And, though first in vice shy, he gets bold bye and bye,
And at last makes a sorrowful end.

He repines and looks back with remorse on the past,
And full fain would resume his condition;
But in vice so far he continues to sin,
Till he sinks in disgrace to perdition.

Source: McCabe, Kevin, ed. The Poetry of Old Niagara. St. Catharines, Ont. : Blarney Stone Books, 1999.

Originally published in The St. Catharines Journal, Dec. 3, 1846. At the end of the poem there appears to be “I.   4.    Alnwick” The spacing, combination of italics and regular font, and the fact that other signed items on the page more resemble a signature line make it unclear if this is an author attribution.

Wonders of the West; or, A Day at the Falls of Niagara in 1825: a poem by a Canadian [ James Lynne Alexander ]

Alexander
Title page of Alexander’s book
               I.

    Who has not had a wish t'inspect
Niagara's famed cataract ?
And all the wonders to explore
From Erie to Ontario's shore ?
The battles, lately fought between ;
Give lively interest to the scene ;
And lead the curious stranger round,
To scrutinize each battle ground.
But sentiments more noble far,
Than thoughts of that unnatural war,
The scenery around inspires,
And every feeling bosom fires.

                    II.

    The Boat had stemm'd Ontario's tide,
And anchor'd on the southern side ;
A noble river with its waves,
Two rival nations' confines laves ;
That Giant stream, which through the lakes
Of Canada, its circuit makes,
And issuing from Ontario
About two hundred miles below,
(After so long a pilgrimage,
Less holy name were sacrilege)
Assumes St. Lawrence, name of awe
But here 'tis called Niagara.

                    III.

    Upon this river's eastern side,
A Fortress stands in warlike pride ;
Ontario's surges lash its base,
And gradually its walls deface ;
And, from its topmost tower display'd,
A flag, with stripes and stars portray'd ;
Upon the west an ancient mound,
The Union Jack and - British ground :
Nor distant far another stands,
Which the whole river's mouth commands.
Between the two lay Newark village,
Which yet they let its neighbours pillage ;
Nor only so, but burn it down ;
And from its ashes now has grown,
Another, but more lovely far,
Since the conclusion of the war
Which they have nam'd Niagara. Continue reading "Wonders of the West; or, A Day at the Falls of Niagara in 1825: a poem by a Canadian   [ James Lynne Alexander ]" →

The Battle of Bridgewater (July 25, 1814) by Anonymous

O'er Huron's wave the sun was low,
The weary soldier watch'd the bow
Fast fading from the cloud below
        The dashing of Niagara.
And while the phantom chain'd his sight,
Ah! little thought he of the fight --
The horrors of the dreamless night,
        That posted on so rapidly.

Soon, soon is fled each softer charm;
The drum and trumpet sound alarm,
And bid each warrior nerve his arm
        For boldest deeds of chivalry;
The burning red-cross, waving high,
Like meteor in the evening sky,
Proclaims the haughty foemen nigh
        To try the strife of rivalry.

Columbia's banner floats as proud,
Her gallant band around it crowd,
And swear to guard or make their shroud
        The starred flag of liberty.
"Haste, haste thee, Scott, to meet the foe,
And let the scornful Briton know,
Well strung the arm and firm the blow
        Of him who strikes for liberty."

Loud, loud the din of battle rings,
Shrill through the ranks the bullet sings,
And onward fierce each foeman springs
        To meet his peer in gallantry.
Behind the hills descends the sun,
The work of death is but begun,
And red through twilight's shadows dun
        Blazes the vollied musketry.

"Charge, Miller, charge the foe once more."
And louder than Niagara's roar
Along the line is heard, encore,
       "On, on to death or victory."
From line to line, with lurid glow,
High arching shoots the rocket's bow,
And lights the mingled scene below
        Of carnage, death, and misery.

The middle watch has now begun,
The horrid battle-fray is done,
No longer beats the furious drum,
        To death, to death or victory.
All, all is still - with silent tread
The watchman steals among the dead,
To guard his comrade's lowly bed,
        Till morning gave him sepulture.

Low in the west, of splendour shorn,
The midnight moon with bloody horn
Sheds her last beam on him, forlorn,
        Who fell in fight so gloriously;
Oh! long her crescent wax and wane
Ere she behold such fray again,
Such dismal night, such heaps of slain,
        Foe mix'd with foe promiscuously.

 

Source: Poems of American History, Collected & Edited by Burton Egbert Stevenson. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1936. p. 308-309

n.b. The Battle of Bridgewater is better known as the Battle of Lundy’s Lane.

A Ballad of the Caroline by Anonymous

steamer caroline  

steamer caroline
Artist’s sketch of the Steamer Caroline on Fire at the Brink of the Horseshoe Falls. Image Courtesy of Niagara Falls Public Library


Sung to the tune of Yankee Doodle Dandy  

When first Mackenzie’s rebel band
Was beat at Gallows Hill, sir,
To Buffalo they did retreat
And said we used him ill, sir.

CHORUS:

Yankee-doodle, boys, huzzah,
Down, outside, and up the middle;
Yankee-doodle, boys, huzzah,
Trumpet, drum and fiddle.

The Buffalonians sympathized
And kicked up such a roar, sir,
And kicked up such a windy noise
It reached the British shore, sir.

steamer caroline
The Steamer Caroline Precipitated Over the Falls of Niagara. Image courtesy of Niagara Falls Public Library

The steamer, bound for Navy Isle,
Left Buffalo one morning
For to assist Mackenzie’s band,
Britannia’s thunder scorning.

But when the lion shook his mane,
And looked a little grim, sir,
He said ’twas not a Texas game
That they could play with him, sir.

A party left the British shore,
Led on by gallant Drew, sir,
To set the Caroline on fire,
And beat her pirate crew, sir.

The Yankees say they did invent
The steamboat first of all, sir;
But Britons taught their Yankee boats
To navigate the Falls, sir.

The spirit of our Wolfe and Brock
Doth still around us hover,
And still we stand on Queenston’s rock
To drive the Yankees over.

No slave shall ever breathe our air,
No tyrant’s laws shall bind us,
So keep your Yankee mob at home
For Britons still you’ll find us.

Source: Kevin McCabe, ed. The Poetry of Old Niagara. St. Catharines, Ont. : Blarney Stone Books, 1999.

Originally published: Jubilee History of Thorold, Township and Town, Thorold, 1897-8

The burning Steamer Caroline went over the Horseshoe Falls on the night of December 29, 1837. Read about the burning of the Caroline at the Niagara Falls Museums website

To The Old School House on Lundy’s Lane by E. Anglian

When time with ruthless wings sweeps on,
    The earth of all its bygone best is shriven;
And so, old edifice, thy day is done;
    The newer day asks more than thou hast given.

In honest hearts a thought for thee enshrined,
    Of sheltering walls in days almost forgot;
When knowledge forced on the unwilling mind
    Saved many from ignominy's cheerless lot.

Man's mind is like a shallow streamlet flowing,
    Forever winding onward to the sea
Of time's oblivion, and the growing
    Like rare immortal fountain, starts with thee.

Prayers offered have ascended from thy walls
    For benefits the which our fickle mind
Scarce can remember, yet those earnest calls
    Brought sweet, refreshing mercy to mankind.

If in the rushing years that are to be
    No steadfast stone of memory marks thy end,
When rich endeavor finds its tide in thee,
    Thou has not been in vain, old hoary friend.

 

 

Source: Niagara Falls Evening Review, December 22, 1915.

 Before the poem: “I see that the old school has already been pulled down. It was, I believe, also used as a church, and this, with other things, caused me to write these new lines, which, if you think worthy, I shall be glad to see printed in your paper.”