And there with academic birch,
Stands Anslie of the English Church,
Who preached in Hull and Bytown too,
Of old, to many a godless crew,
Assembled on each Sabbath day
To pass an idle hour away,
Though doubtless some went there to pray,
While here I pass in swift review
The reverend and pious few,
Who stood as finger posts of yore,
Pointing the way to Canaan's shore,
John Carroll surely should appear,
And take his proper station here,
An honest Wesleyan was he,
Who never knew hypocrisy.
George Poole in days more distant still,
In the little church on "Sandy Hill,"
Which gave its name to "Chapel Street,"
His congregation oft did meet.
And John C. Davidson, also,
Was one of those who long ago
'Mid primal darkness, thick and gross,
Unfurled the banner of the cross;
A Methodist both sound and prime
He was esteemed in the old time,
'Till something gave his faith a lurch,
And he bolted to the English Church,
In which 'tis said that he is quite
"A burning and a shining light."