#CanadianWriters
You didn’t know Billy, did you? W… The greatest fellow you ever seen… An’ sing! say, you never heard sin… I used to say to him, “Billy, tha… A mighty sight more bank-notes to…
And only where the forest fires ha… Scorching relentlessly the cool no… A sweet wild flower lifts its purp… And, like some gentle spirit sorro… It hides the scars with almost hum…
They were coming across the prairi… galloping hard and fast; For the eyes of those desperate ri… their man at last— Sighted him off to Eastward, wher…
October’s orchestra plays softly o… The northern forest with its thous… And Autumn, the conductor wields… The Golden-rod—The baton that he…
IN MUSKOKA Lichens of green and grey on every… And green and grey the rocks benea… Above our heads the canvas stretch… And over all, enchantment rare and…
I am the one who loved her as my l… Had watched her grow to sweet youn… Won the dear privilege to call her… And found the world, because of he… I am the one who heard the spirit…
What of the days when we two dream… Days marvellously fair, As lightsome as a skyward floating… Sailing on summer air— Summer, summer, that came drifting…
Like a grey shadow lurking in the… He ventures forth along the edge o… With silent foot he scouts the cou… And scents the carrion awaiting hi… His savage eyeballs lurid with a f…
Night of Mid-June, in heavy vapou… Like priestly hands thy holy touch… Upon the world’s wide brow; God-like and grand all nature is c… The “peace that passes human under…
Cards, and swords, and a lady’s lo… That is a tale worth reading, An insult veiled, a downcast glove… And rapiers leap unheeding. And ’tis O! for the brawl,
There’s wine in the cup, Vancouve… And there’s warmth in my heart for… While I drink to your health, you… And the things that you yet will d… In a vintage rare and olden,
Sob of fall, and song of forest, c… Calling through the seas and silen… Where the mountain pass is narrow,… Down its rocky-throated canyon, si… You are singing there together thr…
My forest brave, my Red-skin love… We may not meet to-morrow; who can… What mighty ills befall our little… Or what you’ll suffer from the whi… Here is your knife! I thought ’tw…
Sounds of the seas grow fainter, Sounds of the sands have sped; The sweep of gales, The far white sails, Are silent, spent and dead.
There is a lonely minor chord that… Faintly and far along the forest w… When the firs finger faintly on th… Of that rare violin the night wind… Just as it whispered once to you a…