London West by James McIntyre — Read

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While the Thames meanders gently through the green pasture fields of Ingersoll, a pleasing picture to behold, how different, alas, is the feeling in London West, where the river is an object of dread and terror, neither pleasing to the eye or nostrils. As we have been living for the last quarter of a century on the edge of one of the tributary streams of the Thames and were once o'erwhelmed with ruin dire by a number of the dams giving way, we can sympathise with them. They are now built strong and substantial, and the ponds are an ornament to the town, as well as a source of wealth. The Caledonian Society, of Ingersoll, donated $50 to the flood sufferers.

The citizens of London West / Their patience oft is put to test / When they behold the various dams / Do cause the floods and the ice jams.

'Tis true that fiercer rages floods / Since country it was stript of woods, / Acid river it doth broader spread / With numerous tile drains quicker fed.

If they did raise embankment high / They might the raging floods defy.

Shall they with sadness gaze ever, / Or with gladness on the river?

River with dams it will not wed, / It wants no strangers in its bed, / And 'gainst them it will rage and fret / For 'tis no gentle rivulet.

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