#Canadians
The old eternal spring once more Comes back the sad eternal way, With tender rosy light before The going-out of day. The great white moon across my doo…
A Threnody for Robert Louis Stev… COLD, the dull cold! What ails t… And takes the heart out of the day… What makes the morning look so mea… The Common so forlorn and gray?
Wind of the dead men’s feet, Blow down the empty street Of this old city by the sea With news for me! Blow me beyond the grime
ON the long slow heave of a lazy… To the flap of an idle sail, The Nancy’s Pride went out on the… And the skipper stood by the rail. All down, all down by the sleepy t…
I SAID to Life, ‘How comes it, With all this wealth in store, Of beauty, joy, and knowledge, Thy cry is still for more? ’Count all the years of striving
To H. E. C. THERE are sunflowers too in my g… Where now in the early September… The slow autumn sun that goes leis… Of life in the orchards and fir-wo…
Over the shoulders and slopes of t… I saw the white daisies go down to… A host in the sunshine, an army in… The people God sends us to set ou… The bobolinks rallied them up from…
Hem and Haw were the sons of sin, Created to shally and shirk; Hem lay ‘round and Haw looked on While God did all the work. Hem was a fogy, and Haw was a pri…
The sun goes down, and over all These barren reaches by the tide Such unelusive glories fall, I almost dream they yet will bide Until the coming of the tide.
IT is the mellow season When gold enchantment lies On stream and road and woodland, To gladden soul’s surmise. The little old grey homesteads
I HEAR a rainbird singing Far off. How fine and clear His plaintive voice comes ringing With rapture to the ear! Over the misty wood-lots,
HERE in lovely New England When summer is come, a sea-turn Flutters a page of remembrance In the volume of long ago. Soft is the wind over Grand Pré
One August day I sat beside A café window open wide To let the shower-fresh ened air Blow in across the Plaza, where In golden pomp against the dark
SHINING, shining children Of the summer rain, Racing down the valley, Sweeping o’er the plain! Rushing through the forest,
In Memory of John Keats By the Aurelian Wall, Where the long shadows of the cent… From Caius Cestius’ tomb, A weary mortal seeking rest found…