When Father Ranney left the States, <br />In Canada to try the fates, <br />He settled down in Dereham, <br />Then no dairyman lived near him; <br />He was the first there to squeeze <br />His cow's milk into good cheese, <br />And at each Provincial show <br />His famed cheese was all the go. <br /> <br />Then long life to Father Ranney <br />May he wealth and honour gain aye. <br /> <br />He always took the first prize <br />Both for quality and size, <br />But many of his neighbors <br />Now profit by his labors, <br />And the ladies dress in silk <br />From the proceeds of the milk, <br />But those who buy their butter, <br />How dear it is, they mutter. <br /> <br />Then long life to Father Ranney <br />May he wealth and honour gain aye. <br /> <br />Now we close this glorious theme, <br />This song of curds and rich cream, <br />You can buy your hoops and screws, <br />And all supplies for dairy use, <br />Milk cans and vats, all things like these <br />In Ingersoll great mart for cheese, <br />Here buyers do congregate <br />And pay for cheese the highest rate. <br /> <br />So we call on you again aye, <br />To honor Father Ranney.<br /><br />James McIntyre<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/father-ranney-the-cheese-pioneer/
