#Canadians
OH, the shambling sea is a sexton… And well his work is done. With an equal grave for lord and k… He buries them every one. Then hoy and rip, with a rolling h…
To H. E. C. THERE are sunflowers too in my g… Where now in the early September… The slow autumn sun that goes leis… Of life in the orchards and fir-wo…
The lover of child Marjory Had one white hour of life brim fu… Now the old nurse, the rocking sea… Hath him to lull. The daughter of child Marjory
THE hilltop trees are bowing Under the coming of storm. The low gray clouds are trailing Like squadrons that sweep and form… With their ammunition of rain.
One August day I sat beside A café window open wide To let the shower-fresh ened air Blow in across the Plaza, where In golden pomp against the dark
A. M. M. BEHOLD her sitting in the sun This lovely April morn, As eager with the breath of life As daffodils new-born!
Make me over, Mother April, When the sap beings to stir! When thy flowery hand delivers All the mountain-prisoned rivers, And thy great heart beats and quiv…
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,
IN the day of battle, In the night of dread, Let one hymn be lifted, Let one prayer be said. Not for pride of conquest,
WHEN morning is high o’er the hi… On river and stream and lake, Wherever a young breeze whispers, The sun-clad dancers wake. One after one up-springing,
THE play is Life; and this round… The narrow stage whereon We act before an audience Of actors dead and gone. There is a figure in the wings
For The Brthday Of James Whitco… LOCKERBIE STREET is a littl… Just one block long; But the days go there with a magic… The whole year long.
ONCE in the Workshop, ages ago, The clay was wet and the fire was… And He who was bent on fashioning… Moulded a shape from a clod, And put the loyal heart therein;
THIS is a holy refuge, The garden of Saint Rose, A fragrant altar to that peace The world no longer knows. Below a solemn hillside,
THE tall carnations crown the gar… Bowed on their stalks. Said Jock-a-dreams to John-a-nods… ‘What are the odds That we shall wake up here within…