#CanadianWriters
MUCK of the sty, reek of the tro… Blackened my brow where all might… Yet while I was a great way off My Father ran with compassion for… He put on my hand a ring of gold,
ONE day I caught up with my ange… Who calls me bell-like from a sky-… ’Twas in my roof-room, at the stil… Of a still, sunless day, when sudd… A flood of deep unreasoned ecstasy
The Great soft downy snow storm l… Descends to wrap the lean world he… It gives the dead another winding… It buries all the roofs until the… Seems like a soul that from its cl…
HEARING the strange night-pierc… Of woe that strove to sing, I followed where it hid, and found A small soft-throated thing, A feathered handful of gray grief,
I SAW a mother holding Her play-worn baby son, Her pliant arms enfolding The drooping little one. Her lips were made of sweetness,
IF one might live ten years among… Ten–only ten–of all a life’s long… Who would not choose a childhood '… Low-sloping to some slender footpa… With the young grass about his chi…
WITH slender arms outstretching… The grass lies dead; The wind walks tenderly and stirs… Frail fallen head. Of baby creepings through the Apr…
HOW dear to hearts by hurtful noi… In the stillness of the many-leavè… The quiet of green hills, the mill… Tranquility of night, the endless… Of silence in deep wilds, where na…
HERE where tumultuous vines Shadow the porch at the west, Leaf with tendril entwines Under a song sparrow’s nest. She in her pendulous nook
WHEN I see, High on the tip-top twig of a tree… Something blue by the breezes stir… But so far up that the blue is blu… So far up no green leaf flies
THANK God for pluck–unknown to… The self ne’er of its Self bereft… Who, when the right arm’s shattere… The good flag with the left.
THE wind of death, that softly bl… The last warm petal from the rose, The last dry leaf from off the tre… To-night has come to breathe on me… There was a time I learned to hat…
Now that the earth has hid her lov… Of green things in her breast safe… And all the trees have stripped th… The winter comes with wild winds s… Hoarse battle songs-so furious in…
OPE your doors and take me in, Spirit of the wood; Wash me clean of dust and din, Clothe me in your mood. Take me from the noisy light
Here in the crowded city’s busy st… Swayed by the eager, jostling, has… Where Traffic’s voice grows harsh… I see within the stream of hurryin… A company of trees in their retrea…