#Canadians
If night should come and find me a… When all Life’s day I had, tho’ f… And shallow furrows, cleft in ston… Were all my labour: Shall I coun… If only one poor gleaner, weak of…
An uphill path, sun-gleams between… Where every beam that broke the le… Lit other hills with fairer ways t… Some clustered graves where half o… And one grim Shadow creeping ever…
The earth grows white with harvest… The sickles gleam, until the darkn… Her web of silence o’er the thankf… Of reapers bringing home the golde… The wave tops whiten on the sea fi…
Sleep, little eyes That brim with childish tears amid… Be comforted! No grief of night… Against the joys that throng thy c… Sleep, little heart!
The day is past and the toilers ce… The land grows dim 'mid the shadow… And hearts are glad, for the dark… At the close of day. Each weary toiler, with lingering…
In Flanders fields the poppies bl… Between the crosses, row on row, That mark our place; and in the sk… The larks, still bravely singing,… Scarce heard amid the guns below.
Here all the day she swings from t… Here all night long she tugs a rus… A masterless hulk that was a ship… Yet unashamed: her memories remai… It was Nelson in the 'Captain’,…
“It fell on a day, that he went ou… And he said unto his father, My h… Carry him to his mother. And . .… and then died. And she went up, a… And shut the door upon him and wen…
One spake amid the nations, “Let… From darkening with strife the fai… We who are great in war be great i… No longer let us plead the cause b… But from a million British graves…
I saw a King, who spent his life… Into a nation all his great heart… Unsatisfied until he should achiev… The grand ideal that his manhood s… Yet as he saw the end within his r…
“. . . with two other priests; the… and was buried by the shores of th… Chronicle. “Nay, grieve not that ye can no ho… To these poor bones that presently…
“Sleep, weary ones, while ye may— Sleep, oh, sleep!” Eugene Field. Thro’ May time blossoms, with whi… The soft wind sang to the dead bel…
Beneath her window in the fragrant… I half forget how truant years hav… Since I looked up to see her cham… Or catch, perchance, her slender s… Upon the casement; but the nodding…
Cometh the night. The wind falls… The trees swing slowly to and fro: Around the church the headstones g… Cluster, like children strayed awa… But found again, and folded so.
Scarlet coats, and crash o’ the ba… The grey of a pauper’s gown, A soldier’s grave in Zululand, And a woman in Brecon Town. My little lad for a soldier boy,
