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Bliss Carman

Bliss Carman

The Garden of Dreams

MY heart is a garden of dreams
Where you walk when day is done,
Fair as the royal flowers,
Calm as the lingering sun.
Never a drouth comes there,
Nor any frost that mars,
Only the wind of love
Under the early stars,—
The living breath that moves
Whispering to and fro,
Like the voice of God in the dusk
Of the garden long ago.

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Autres oeuvres par Bliss Carman...
In Early May

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
At Sunrise

NOW the stars have faded In the purple chill, Lo, the sun is kindling On the eastern hill. Tree by tree the forest
By Still Waters

MY tent stands in a garden Of aster and goldenrod, Tilled by the rain and the sunshin… And sown by the hand of God,— An old New England pasture
The God of the Wood

HERE all the forces of the wood As one converge, To make the soul of solitude Where all things merge. The sun, the rain-wind, and the ra…
Why

FOR a name unknown, Whose fame unblown Sleeps in the hills For ever and aye; For her who hears
Fireflies

THE fireflies across the dusk Are flashing signals through the g… Courageous messengers of light That dare immensities of doom. About the seeding meadow-grass,
A Vagabond Song

There is something in the autumn t… Touch of manner, hint of mood; And my heart is like a rhyme, With the yellow and the purple and… The scarlet of the maples can shak…
In the Wings

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
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Songs of the Grass

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.
Rivers of Canada

O all the little rivers that run t… They call me and call me to follow… Missinaibi, Abitibi, Little Curr… Dancing and sparkling I see them… I hear the brawling rapid, the thu…
In a Copy of Browning

BROWNING, old fellow, Your leaves grow yellow, Beginning to mellow As seasons pass. Your cover is wrinkled,
On Love

TO the assembled folk At great St. Kavin’s spoke Young Brother Amiel on Christmas… I give you joy, my friends, That as the round year ends,
The Homestead

HERE we came when love was young… Now that love is old, Shall we leave the floor unswept And the hearth acold? Here the hill-wind in the dusk,
Lockerbie Street

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.
A Northern Vigil

HERE by the gray north sea, In the wintry heart of the wild, Comes the old dream of thee, Guendolen, mistress and child. The heart of the forest grieves



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