Ode to (Dartmouth)

And on his left sweet Dartmouth lies
In all its quiet beauty;
Its banks are dotted here and there with dwellings,
And its shore is shaded by low wood

Even to the water’s brink, beneath whose shade Is seen the light canoe as it glides along, Plied by the lone Indian who views the depth beneath, And now the spear is poised to strike destruction to the finny tribe, While farther on, small tiny boats, bearing each a freight Of young light hearts, are making for the beach

Whose sandy surface woos the bathers there–
To Dartmouth comes the plodding Cit, who leaves behind
The bustle of the trading crowd
And seeks at even-tide its calm retreat.
Here the city dame of high degree, sated with pleasure,
Is fain to seek a further lease of life,
And now would rusticate a little time
Amid its genial skies and health inspiring scenes;·
Here too the thrifty housewife comes to save.
The air is fine, the neighbours pleasant, and the taxes small,
And here in the summer’s heat do parties come
To taste the luscious fruit–Acadia’s pride,
Or spend a social hour, or take a throw of Rip Van Winkle’s Game, and then, perhaps imbibe.
0’tis indeed a pretty spot, With all its pleasant walks,
And fresh green fields, its clear calm lakes
And streams, its mazy woods and beautiful retreats,
Where one may pass a life of quiet happiness.


Then at his feet rolls the glorious harbour,
all its untamed magnificence;
is and ever will be fairest of all waters,
Our country’s glory and her pride.
Scarcely anchored here the labouring ship
the gale that ruffles now the mighty waters,
running north it opens out

A.M. “Ode to Halifax (1844)” Dalhousie Review, Volume 29, Number 1, 1949 https://dalspace.library.dal.ca/bitstream/handle/10222/63701/dalrev_vol29_iss1_pp62_64.pdf?sequence=1&isAllowed=y