#CanadianWriters
Under the sky without a stain The long, ripe, rippling of the gr… Light, broadcast from the golden o… Over the blackberry fences floats. Madonna sits in a cedar chair
Here is the height of land: The watershed on either hand Goes down to Hudson Bay Or Lake Superior; The stars are up, and far away
Veil-like and beautiful Gathered the dutiful Mist in the night, True to the messaging, Dreamful and presaging
An angel burdened with self-pity Came out of heaven to a modern cit… He saw a beggar on the street, Where the tides of traffic meet. A pair of brass-bound hickory pegs
Wind of the gentle summer night, Dwell in the lilac tree, Sway the blossoms clustered light, Then blow over to me. Wind, you are sometimes strong and…
_The dew falls and the stars fall, The sun falls in the west, But never more Through the closed door, Shall the one that I loved best
I have seen things that charmed th… Faint moonlight on the towers of a… Flattering the soul to dream of ol… The first clear silver on the moun… Where the lone eagle by his chilly…
I THOUGHT of death beside the… That went beyond the limit of my s… Seeming the image of his mastery, The semblance of his huge and gloo… But firm beneath the sea went the…
From the upland hidden, Where the hill is sunny Tawny like pure honey In the August heat, Memories float unbidden
Those who die on Christmas Day (I heard the triumphant Seraph sa… Will be remembered, for they died Upon the Holy Christmastide; When they attain to Paradise,
I DWELL in the wood that is dar… But afar off tolls the main, Afar, far off I hear the wind, And the roving of the rain. The shade is dark as a palmer’s ho…
To ports of balm through isles of… The gentle airs are leading us; To curtained calm and tents of dus… The wood-wild things unheeding us Will share their hoards of hardiho…
Here in the inmost of the master’s… This violet crisp with early dew Has come to leave her beauty and t… With all her vivid hue. And while in hollow glades and del…
O if love were had for asking, In the markets of the town, Hardly a lass would think to wear A fine silken gown: But love is had by grieving
She breathèd deep, And stepped from out life’s stream Upon the shore of sleep; And parted from the earthly noise, Leaving her world of toys,