#CanadianWriters
Not in the ancient abbey, Nor in the city ground, Not in the lonely mountains, Nor in the blue profound, Lay him to rest when his time is c…
ALONG the wintry skyline, Crowning the rocky crest, Stands the bare screen of hardwood… Against the saffron west,— Its gray and purple network
O MOON, Mr. Moon, When you comin’ down? Down on the hilltop, Down in the glen, Out in the clearin’,
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
Over the hills of April With soft winds hand in hand, Impassionate and dreamy-eyed, Spring leads her saraband. Her garments float and gather
I love the stony pasture That no one else will have. The old gray rocks so friendly see… So durable and brave. In tranquil contemplation
On The Dunes HERE all night on the dunes In the rocking wind we sleep; Watched by the sentry stars, Lulled by the drone of the deep.
HERE in lovely New England When summer is come, a sea-turn Flutters a page of remembrance In the volume of long ago. Soft is the wind over Grand Pré
Over the wintry threshold Who comes with joy today, So frail, yet so enduring, To triumph o’er dismay? Ah, quick her tears are springing,
ABOVE the weary waiting world, Asleep in chill despair, There breaks a sound of joyous bel… Upon the frosted air. And o’er the humblest rooftree, lo…
MORTAL, mortal, have you seen In the scented summer night, Great Astarte, clad in green With a veil of mystic light, Passing on her silent way,
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 April winds arrive And the soft rains are here, Some morning by the roadside These gipsy folk appear. We never see their coming,
Wind of the dead men’s feet, Blow down the empty street Of this old city by the sea With news for me! Blow me beyond the grime
A Threnody for Robert Louis Stev… COLD, the dull cold! What ails t… And takes the heart out of the day… What makes the morning look so mea… The Common so forlorn and gray?