#CanadianWriters
Veil-like and beautiful Gathered the dutiful Mist in the night, True to the messaging, Dreamful and presaging
Here there is balm for every tende… Wounded by life; Rest for each one who bore a valia… Crushed in the strife. I suffered there and held a losing…
You had two girls—Baptiste— One is Virginie— Hold hard—Baptiste! Listen to me. The whole drive was jammed
(Aetat Six) Now every night we light the grate And I sit up till _really_ late; My Father sits upon the right, My Mother on the left, and I
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…
O noble youth that held our honour… And bore it sacred through the bat… How shall we give full measure of… To thy sharp labour, thy immortal… For though we sowed with doubtful…
Some men are born to gather women’… To give a harbour to their timorou… To take them as the dry earth take… As the dark wood the warm wind fro… Yet their own tears remain unshed,
The winds that on the uplands soft… Grow keener where the ice is linge… Where the first robin on the shelt… Pipes blithely to the tune, “When… Hear him again, “Spring! Spring!”…
THE slender moon and one pale sta… A rose leaf and a silver bee From some god’s garden blown afar, Go down the gold deep tranquilly. Within the south there rolls and g…
A deep bell that links the downs To the drowsy air; Every loop of sound that swoons, Finds a circle fair, Whereon it doth rest and fade;
From the upland hidden, Where the hill is sunny Tawny like pure honey In the August heat, Memories float unbidden
She is free of the trap and the pa… The portage and the trail, But something behind her savage li… Shines like a fragile veil. Her dreams are undiscovered,
Now the November skies, And the clouds that are thin and g… That drop with the wind away; A flood of sunlight rolls, In a tide of shallow light,
This silver-edged geranium leaf Is one sign of a bitter grief Whose symbols are a myriad more; They cluster round a carven stone Where she who sleeps is never alon…
Tug at the net, Haul at the net, Strip off the quivering fish; Hid in the mist The winds whist,