#CanadianWriters
By a void and soundless river On the outer edge of space, Where the body comes not ever, But the absent dream hath place, Stands a city, tall and quiet,
Subtly conscious, all awake, Let us clear our eyes, and break Through the cloudy chrysalis, See the wonder as it is. Down a narrow alley, blind,
By the Nile, the sacred river, I can see the captive hordes, Strain beneath the lash and quiver At the long papyrus cords, While in granite rapt and solemn,
Long, long ago, it seems, this sum… That pale-browed April passed wit… Through the frore woods, and from… Woke the arbutus with her silver h… And now May, too, is fled,
The darkness brings no quiet here,… No waking: ever on my blinded brai… The flare of lights, the rush, and… The engines’ scream, the hiss and… I see the hurrying crowds, the cla…
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…
Hear me, Brother, gently met; Just a little, turn, not yet, Thou shalt laugh, and soon forget: Now the midnight draweth near. I have little more to tell;
Far in the grim Northwest beyond… That turn the rivers eastward to t… Set with a thousand islands, crown… Lies the deep water, wild Temagam… Wild for the hunter’s roving, and…
Why weep ye in your innocent toil… Sweet little hands, why halt and t… Full many a wrong note falls, but… Each note to me is like a golden g… Each broken cadence like a mournin…
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…
No girdle hath weaver or goldsmith… So rich as the arms of my love can… No gems with a lovelier lustre fra… Than her eyes, when they answer me… Dear lady of love, be kind to me
Mother of balms and soothings mani… Quiet-breathed night whose broodin… To whom the voices of all rest are… And those few stars whose scattere… Far off beyond the westward hills…
The King’s son walks in the garde… Oh, the maiden’s heart is merry! He little knows for his toil and c… That the bride is gone and the bow… Put on garments of white, my maide…
In Nino’s chamber not a sound int… Upon the midnight’s tingling silen… Where Nino sits before his book a… Thin and brow-burdened with some f… Some gloom that hangs about his mo…
From plains that reel to southward… The road runs by me white and bare… Up the steep hill it seems to swim Beyond, and melt into the glare. Upward half-way, or it may be