#CanadianWriters
Though fancy and the might of rhym… That turneth like the tide, Have borne me many a musing time, Beloved, from thy side. Ah yet, I pray thee, deem not, Sw…
The wind-swayed daisies, that on e… Throng the wide fields in whisperi… Serene and gently smiling like the… Of tender children long beatified, The delicate thought-wrapped butte…
Slow figures in some live remorsel… The approaching days escapeless an… With mask and shroud impenetrably… Time, whose inexorable destinies Bear down upon us like impending s…
The trees rustle; the wind blows Merrily out of the town; The shadows creep, the sun goes Steadily over and down. In a brown gloom the moats gleam;
Again the warm bare earth, the noo… That hangs upon her healing scars, The midnight round, the great red… The mother with her brood of stars… The mist-rack and the wakening rai…
O differing human heart, Why is it that I tremble when thi… Thy human eyes and beautiful human… Draw me, and stir within my soul That subtle ineradicable longing
The glittering roofs are still wit… Black chimney builds into the quie… Its curling pile to crumble silent… Far out to westward on the edge of… The slender misty city towers up-b…
The leafless forests slowly yield To the thick-driving snow. A litt… And night shall darken down. In s… The woodmen’s carts go by me homew… Past the thin fading stubbles, hal…
Pale season, watcher in unvexed su… Still priestess of the patient mid… Betwixt wild March’s humored petu… And the warm wooing of green kirtl… Maid month of sunny peace and sobe…
Life is not all for effort: there… When fancy breaks from the exactin… And rebel though takes schoolboy’s… Rejoicing in its idle strength. ’… And only at such moments, that we…
For three whole days across the sk… In sullen packs that loomed and br… With flying fringes dim as smoke, The columns of the rain went by; At every hour the wind awoke;
How still it is here in the woods.… Stand motionless, as if they did n… To stir, lest it should break the… Hangs quiet as spaces in a marble… Even this little brook, that runs…
The sun looks over a little hill And floods the valley with gold– A torrent of gold; And the hither field is green and… Beyond it a cloud outrolled,
Now hath the summer reached her go… And, lost amid her corn-fields, br… Scarcely perceives from her divine… How near, how swift, the inevitabl… Still, still, she smiles, though f…
‘Grotesque!’ we said, the moment w… For there he stood, supreme in his… With short ears close together and… Planted irregularly: first we trie… With jokes, but they were lost; we…