Tag: Queenston

Brock’s Monument by Betty J. Beam

(a children’s poem)

Brock’s Monument at Queenston Heights by Reg Deacon. Photo courtesy of Niagara Falls Public Library
I climbed up Brock's Monument
    With a leap, a skip, a hop.
I climbed up Brock's Monument
    From the bottom to the top.
I climbed up Brock's Monument
    And I did it without one stop.
BUT --
Two hundred and thirty-five steps
    And I'm ready to drop!

General Brock rode Alfred
    On the daring fateful ride.
Sword drawn, he scaled Queenston Heights,
    British Red Coats at his side
The Americans could not
    Gain the summit, though they tried.
BUT --
Musket and cannon came alive
    And the man and horse died!

I climbed up Brock's Monument
    When tulips were in flower.
I climbed up Brock's Monument
    In less than half an hour.
I climbed up Brock's Monument
    Using my muscle power.
BUT --
I'm glad there's an elevator
    In the CN Tower!

Source: The Author, 2001

Laura Secord by Jean Blewett

Laura Secord. Image courtesy Niagara Falls Public Library

I search the pages of our history over
For a courageous one whose name would stand
For staunchest patriot, and for truest lover,
And prove the same by deed done for the land;
And my heart thrills, for ’tis a woman bears it,
You’ll find it, marble carved, on Laura Secord’s grave;
And you, and I, and every woman shares it,
The right to stand for what is good and brave.

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

Originally published in: Jean Blewett. Jean Blewett’s Poems. Toronto: McClelland & Stewart, 1922.

Click to see more poems about the Battle of Beaverdams and other Poems of the War of 1812 in Niagara

The Battle of Queenstown (October 13, 1812) by William Banker, Jr.

When brave Van Rensselaer cross'd the stream,
    Just at the break of day
Distressing thoughts, a restless dream,
    Disturb'd me where I lay.

But all the terrors of the night
    Did quickly flee away:
My opening eyes beheld the light,
    And hail'd the new-born day.

Soon did the murdering cannon's roar
    Put blood in all my veins;
Columbia's sons have trod the shore
    Where the proud Britain reigns.

To expose their breast to cannon's ball,
    Their country's rights to save,
O what a grief to see them fall!
    True heroes, bold and brave!

The musket's flash, the cannon's glow,
    Thunder'd and lighten'd round,
Struck dread on all the tawny foe,
    And swept them to the ground.

I thought what numbers must be slain,
    What weeping widows left!
And aged parents full of pain,
    Of every joy bereft.

The naked savage yelling round
    Our heroes where they stood,
And every weapon to be found
    Was bathed in human blood.

But bold Van Rensselaer, full of wounds,
    Was quickly carried back;
Brave Colonel Bloom did next command
    The bloody fierce attack.

Where Brock, the proud insulter, rides
    In pomp and splendor great;
Our valiant heroes he derides,
    And dared the power of fate.

 Continue reading "The Battle of Queenstown (October 13, 1812)  by William Banker, Jr." →

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 ]" →