#CanadianWriters
THOU stand’st complete in every… An individual of thy kind; But whence thou cam’st and what th… Didst ever ask thee of thy mind? Thou claim’st a portion of God’s…
I HAVE Thee now, O Jesu, Enshrined within my soul, In all Thy love and fulness, With power to make me whole. Though cold and so unworthy,
‘Is Sin, then, fair?’ Nay, love, come now, Put back the hair From his sunny brow; See, here, blood-red
GREAT mother! from the depths of… From mountain pass and burning sun… We, thine unlettered children of t… Upraise to thee the everlasting hy… Of nature, language of the skies a…
YOU’RE only a dumb little dog,… About ten or twelve pounds or so, And your wits must be all in a fog… If you have any wits, I know. But you’ve two such soft brown eye…
I SAW Truth on the mountains, go… With day-dawn, girt about with ski… Of azure mist, half veiling from m… Her silent face and gaze upturned… Beneath were clouded steeps of sha…
In lonely watches night by night Great visions burst upon my sight, For down the stretches of the sky The hosts of dead go marching by. Strange ghostly banners o’er them…
DAY after day, As I have wandered thro’ the fiel… Gay, happy fields, bright with the… Flower after flower Has bloomed beside my path;
THE three Fates sat in a house o… Ah, well a day; ah, well a day; Their eyes were bright, but not wi… They have no love for the sons of… And their lips were parched and gr…
’TWAS afternoon in winter, and t… Sloped softly up the walls, as day… In tremulous cloud-beams, while th… Blazoned with saints the columns o… All sounds had died away; to left…
WORDS are but passing symbols of… Crying unto deep in individual sou… And men are words on the great voi… Through Nature, since that morn w… The elements heard, and they who v…
I CLOSED the book, but fancied… I heard, like distant music roll, The far-off echoes in my soul Of his great life. I listened til… Entranced, I thought that I could…
PART I IN the land that is neither night… Where the mists sleep over the for… A sad, sad spirit wandered away. The woods are still—no brooks, no…
I saw Time in his workshop carvin… Scattered around his tools lay, bl… Sharp cares that cut out deeply in… Of light and shade; sorrows that s… Of what were smiles. Nor yet with…
TWO watchers sit beside the dead; From hour to hour no prayer is sai… For they are dumb and he is dead; And snows are curling round his he… While God’s white wings are overs…