#CanadianWriters
Not to be conquered by these headl… But to stand free: to keep the min… On life’s deep meaning, nature’s a… Of loveliness, and time’s mysterio… At every thought and deed to clear…
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…
Mother, to whose valiant will Battling long ago, What the heaping years fulfil, Light and song, I owe; Send my little book afield,
What do poets want with gold, Cringing slaves and cushioned ease… Are not crusts and garments old Better for their souls than these? Gold is but the juggling rod
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…
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…
Where swallows and wheatfields are… O hamlet brown and still, O river that shineth far, By meadow, pier, and mill: O endless sunsteeped plain,
By silent forest and field and mos… We come from the wooden hill, and… We labour, and sing sweet songs, b… For our mother, the sea, is callin… We have heard her calling us many…
Now the creeping nets of sleep Stretch about and gather nigh, And the midnight dim and deep Like a spirit passes by, Trailing from her crystal dress
O little one, daughter, my dearest… With your smiles and your beautifu… And your laughter, the brightest a… O gravest and gayest of girls; With your hands that are softer th…
When saw I yesterday walking apar… In a leafy place where the cattle… Something to keep for a charm in m… A little sweet girl in a garden ga… Laughing she lay in the gold sun’s…
Move on, light hands, so strongly… Now with dropped calm and yearning… Now swift and loud, tumultuously s… And I in darkness, sitting near t… Shall not only hear, and feel, but…
In the silent depth of space, Immeasurably old, immeasurably far… Glittering with a silver flame Through eternity, Rolls a great and burning star,
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…
Day and night pass over, rounding, Star and cloud and sun, Things of drift and shadow, empty Of my dearest one. Soft as slumber was my baby,