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A poem by James McIntyre |
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Lines Read At A Maple Sugar Social, April, 1888 |
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Title: Lines Read At A Maple Sugar Social, April, 1888 Author: James McIntyre [More Titles by McIntyre] Our first Canadian job when boy, We stored it in great wooden trough, For it was a serious toil Of old we thought our neck was broke We waded through the snow and slush Unless it is the lips of lass, For birds will soon begin to sing Let none at sugar making scoff, [The end] GO TO TOP OF SCREEN |