Uploaded January 2026 | Updated September 2026, 2 weeks ago
An old, old Newfoundland poem that was written by M.A. Devine, and sent from New York on November 20 1891 to the Newfoundland paper The Holly Branch to be published that year.
Those Nights on Burton's Pond
St. John's in Terra Nova
Is many leagues away,
My thoughts are with that dear old town,
I sigh to be there, to-day.
I think of its sports and pleasures
But recollection fond,
Recalls most vividly of all
Those nights on Burton's Pond.
I've been to the ball and play-house,
I've roamed through the Central Park,
I've listened to famous singers,
In this city of New York.
These pleasures are great, I grant you,
But something far beyond
Was the joyous skate, with darling Kate
O'er the ice on Burton's Pond.
Ah! darling, pink-cheeked maiden,
The ocean rolls between,
And the years 'twixt twenty and forty
Will mercilessly intervene,
But memory brings your bright face back,
Your eyes like the stars beyond,
The eyes that stole my heart that night
We met on Burton's Pond.
Boast of your sunny southern lands,
Your olive groves, your vine,
What are your "far niente" climes
To this brave home of mine?
Sing loud you slaves of fashion,
The beauties of Beau Monde,
I'd give them all to just recall
Those nights on Burton's Pond.
My Kate adorns another home,
A happy, honored wife,
And I -- well p'raps for her dear sake
I lead a lonely life.
Though she has children almost men,
I believe, in her bosom fond,
She oft recalls the moonlight nights
We spent on Burton's Pond.
An old, old Newfoundland poem that was written by M.A. Devine, and sent from New York on November 20 1891 to the Newfoundland paper The Holly Branch to be published that year.
Those Nights on Burton's Pond
St. John's in Terra Nova
Is many leagues away,
My thoughts are with that dear old town,
I sigh to be there, to-day.
I think of its sports and pleasures
But recollection fond,
Recalls most vividly of all
Those nights on Burton's Pond.
I've been to the ball and play-house,
I've roamed through the Central Park,
I've listened to famous singers,
In this city of New York.
These pleasures are great, I grant you,
But something far beyond
Was the joyous skate, with darling Kate
O'er the ice on Burton's Pond.
Ah! darling, pink-cheeked maiden,
The ocean rolls between,
And the years 'twixt twenty and forty
Will mercilessly intervene,
But memory brings your bright face back,
Your eyes like the stars beyond,
The eyes that stole my heart that night
We met on Burton's Pond.
Boast of your sunny southern lands,
Your olive groves, your vine,
What are your "far niente" climes
To this brave home of mine?
Sing loud you slaves of fashion,
The beauties of Beau Monde,
I'd give them all to just recall
Those nights on Burton's Pond.
My Kate adorns another home,
A happy, honored wife,
And I -- well p'raps for her dear sake
I lead a lonely life.
Though she has children almost men,
I believe, in her bosom fond,
She oft recalls the moonlight nights
We spent on Burton's Pond.
