#Canadians
I SEE the great blue heron Rising among the reeds And floating down the wind, Like a gliding sail With the set of the stream.
THERE is a world of being We range from pole to pole, Through seasons of the spirit And weather of the soul. It has its new-born Aprils,
O MY dear, the world to-day Is more lovely than a dream! Magic hints from far away Haunt the woodland, and the stream Murmurs in his rocky bed
I heard the spring wind whisper Above the brushwood fire, ‘The world is made forever Of transport and desire. ’I am the breath of being,
The rutted roads are all like iron… Are keen and brilliant; only the o… In the bare woods, or the hardy bi… ; Drivers have put their sheepskin j…
IT is the mellow season When gold enchantment lies On stream and road and woodland, To gladden soul’s surmise. The little old grey homesteads
OVER the wintry threshold Who comes with joy to-day, So frail, yet so enduring, To triumph o’er dismay? Ah, quick her tears are springing,
I SAID to Life, ‘How comes it, With all this wealth in store, Of beauty, joy, and knowledge, Thy cry is still for more? ’Count all the years of striving
In Memory of John Keats By the Aurelian Wall, Where the long shadows of the cent… From Caius Cestius’ tomb, A weary mortal seeking rest found…
IN the wondrous star-sown night, In the first sweet warmth of sprin… I lie awake and listen To hear the glad earth sing. I hear the brook in the wood
THESE things I remember Of New England June, Like a vivid day-dream In the azure noon, While one haunting figure
Harvard, 1914 SIR, friends, and scholars, we ar… A high occasion. Our New England… All her unrivalled beauty as of ol… And June, with scent of bayberry…
Over the hills of April With soft winds hand in hand, Impassionate and dreamy-eyed, Spring leads her saraband. Her garments float and gather
My tent stands in a garden Of aster and golden-rod, Tilled by the rain and the sunshin… And sown by the hand of God, - An old New England pasture
SHINING, shining children Of the summer rain, Racing down the valley, Sweeping o’er the plain! Rushing through the forest,