#Canadians
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
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
O LIFE, dear Life, in this fair… Long since did I, it seems to me, In some mysterious doleful way Fall out of love with thee. For, Life, thou art become a ghos…
NOW the joys of the road are chie… A crimson touch on the hard-wood t… A vagrant’s morning wide and blue, In early fall, when the wind walks… A shadowy highway cool and brown,
FOR a name unknown, Whose fame unblown Sleeps in the hills For ever and aye; For her who hears
LORD of the grass and hill, Lord of the rain, White Overlord of will, Master of pain, I who am dust and air
WHO called us forth out of darkne… Who set our hands to the toiling,… Darkly they mused, predestined to… Sowing the seed of wisdom, guardin… Little they reckoned privation, hu…
ALL day long beneath the sun Shining through the fields they ru… Singing in a cadence known To the seraphs round the throne. And the traveller drawing near
WHEN the first silent frost has… The ghost-yard of the goldenrod, And laid the blight of his cold ha… Upon the warm autumnal land, And all things wait the subtle cha…
The sun goes down, and over all These barren reaches by the tide Such unelusive glories fall, I almost dream they yet will bide Until the coming of the tide.
O MOON, Mr. Moon, When you comin’ down? Down on the hilltop, Down in the glen, Out in the clearin’,
A. M. M. BEHOLD her sitting in the sun This lovely April morn, As eager with the breath of life As daffodils new-born!
NOW soon, ah, very soon, I know The trumpets of the north will blo… And the great winds will come to b… The pale wild riders of the snow. Darkening the sun with level fligh…
THE sleeping tarn is dark Below the wooded hill. Save for its homing sounds, The twilit world grows still. And I am left to muse
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