Anthony Bosley and his Wife
He was 106 and his wife 104 years old. Their residence was near old Port Franks, 1857.

Now Bosley,* you’re old and forgotten,
Few with thee in life can compare;
What millions on millions lie rotten,
Since you have breathed the air.

And yet you seem always contented,
What pleasure your life must have been;
Wherein you done wrong you repent it,
Your mind is yet sensitive keen.

Your wife and you, both sit together
And look into each other’s face;
And without a doubt or a whether,
You give to each other solace. 

Contented you’re always pursuing,
Your wonderful journey through life;
Whilst many you oft’ have seen ruing,
The day they were made man and wife.

But days of thy youth have passed over,
And poverty hangs at thy door;
Yet thy heart’s show the constant true lover,
You love and rejoice as before. 

One hundred and six, what a number?
Your wife is one hundred and four,
And yet you can walk round and ponder
O’er actions that happened of yore. 

You tell of the old revolution,
And how you did work the battau;
And fought for the king’s constitution,
And shoulder’d your musket also. 

But now you’re forgotten and humble,
King George has long gone to his rest;
You never lament, grieve nor grumble,
But seem to be constantly blest.

*This old man was born in Lower Canada, and worked a boat on Lake George, at the time of the American Revolution, carrying troops & c., from one place to another. He and his wife died in less than two years after the Poem was written.  He delighted in telling old war scenes.