#CanadianWriters
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;
From upland slopes I see the cows… Lowing, great-chested, down the ho… By dusking fields and meadows shin… With moon-tipped dandelions. Flic… A peevish night-hawk in the wester…
‘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…
Oh earth, oh dewy mother, breathe… Something of all thy beauty and th… Us that are part of day, but most… Not strong like thee, but ever bur… With glooms and cares, things pale…
Clothed in splendour, beautifully… Comes the autumn over the woods an… Golden, rose-red, full of divine r… Full of foreboding. Soon the maples, soon will the glo…
The old grey year is near his term… And now with backward eye and soft… Awakens to a golden dream of youth… A second childhood lovely and most… And the smooth hour about his mist…
The long days came and went; the r… Tore the warm grapes in many a dus… And men grew faint and thin with t… And Winter gave no sign: But all the while beyond the north…
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;
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,
Over the dripping roofs and sunk s… The bells are ringing loud and str… The shout of children dins upon mi… Shrilly, and like a flight of silv… Showers the sweet gossip of the B…
Sweet summer is gone; they have la… The last sad hours that were touch… In the hush where the ghosts of th… The sleep that is sweet of her slu… Let not a sight or a sound erase
We in sorrow coldly witting, In the bleak world sitting, sittin… By the forest, near the mould, Heard the summer calling, calling, Through the dead leaves falling, f…
How the returning days, one after… Came ever in their rhythmic round,… Yet from each looped robe for ever… Some new thing falls. Happy is he Who fronts them without fear, and…
If any man, with sleepless care op… On many a night had risen, and add… His hand to make him out of joy an… An image of sweet sleep in carven… Light touch by touch, in weary mom…
Half god, half brute, within the s… Changers with every hour from dawn… Who dream with angels in the gate… And skirt with curious eyes the br… Children of Pan, whom some, the f…