#Canadians
Oh city, whom grey stormy hands ha… With restless drift, scarce broken… Out of the dark thy windows dim an… Gleam red across the storm. Sound… Save evermore the fierce wind’s sw…
Think not, because thine inmost he… Thou hast the freedom of rude spee… Are like the voices of returning b… Filling the soul with summer, or a… That calls the weary and the sick…
There came no change from week to… On all the land, but all one way, Like ghosts that cannot touch nor… Day followed day. Within the palace court the rounds
There is no break in all the wide… Nor light on any field, and the wi… And talks of death. Where cold gr… Round greyer stones, and the new-f… Heap the chill hollows of the nake…
Along the waste, a great way off,… Like tall slim priests of storm, s… The low long strip of dolorous red… The under west, where wet winds mo… The cornfields all are brown, and…
The earth is the cup of the sun, That he filleth at morning with wi… With the warm, strong wine of his… From the vintage of gold and of li… Fills it, and makes it divine.
The world in gloom and splendour p… And thou in the midst of it with b… A creature of that old distorted d… That makes the sound of life an ev… Good men perform just deeds, and b…
What are these bustlers at the gat… Of now or yesterday, These playthings in the hand of F… That pass, and point no way; These clinging bubbles whose mock…
The dew is gleaming in the grass, The morning hours are seven, And I am fain to watch you pass, Ye soft white clouds of heaven. Ye stray and gather, part and fold…
March is slain; the keen winds fly… Nothing more is thine to do; April kisses thee good-bye; Thou must haste and follow too; Silent friend that guarded well
One after one the high emotions fa… Time’s wheeling measure empties an… Year after year; we seek no more t… That lured our youth divine and un… But swarming on some common highwa…
How still it is here in the woods.… Stand motionless, as if they did n… To stir, lest it should break the… Hangs quiet as spaces in a marble… Even this little brook, that runs…
Beloved, those who moan of love’s… Shall find but little grace with m… Who know too well this passion’s t… To deem that it shall lightly pass… A moment’s interlude in life’s dul…
Slow figures in some live remorsel… The approaching days escapeless an… With mask and shroud impenetrably… Time, whose inexorable destinies Bear down upon us like impending s…
From plains that reel to southward… The road runs by me white and bare… Up the steep hill it seems to swim Beyond, and melt into the glare. Upward half-way, or it may be
