#Canadians
This silver-edged geranium leaf Is one sign of a bitter grief Whose symbols are a myriad more; They cluster round a carven stone Where she who sleeps is never alon…
(Aetat Six) Now every night we light the grate And I sit up till _really_ late; My Father sits upon the right, My Mother on the left, and I
Set within a desert lone, Circled by an arid sea, Stands a figure carved in stone, Where a fountain used to be. Two abraded, pleading hands
IN the smithy it began: Let’s make something for a man! Hear the bellows belch and roar, Splashing light on roof and floor: From their nest the feathery spark…
I DWELL in the sea that is wild… But afar in a shadow still, I can see the trees that gather an… In the wood upon the hill. The deeps are green as an emerald’…
Dawn-cool, dew-cool Gleams the surface of my pool Bird haunted, fern enchanted, Where but tempered spirits rule; Stars do not trace their mystic li…
From the upland hidden, Where the hill is sunny Tawny like pure honey In the August heat, Memories float unbidden
She is free of the trap and the pa… The portage and the trail, But something behind her savage li… Shines like a fragile veil. Her dreams are undiscovered,
Here in the midnight, where the da… Shadows mingle in shadow deeper, p… Sing we the hymns of the churches,… Whispers before us. Thunder is travelling slow on the…
This is the land! It lies outstretched a vision of d… Bent like a shield between the sil… It flashes back the hauteur of the… Yet teems with humblest beauties,…
Here in the pungent gloom Where the tamarac roses glow And the balsam burns its perfume, A vireo turns his slow Cadence, as if he gloated
An angel burdened with self-pity Came out of heaven to a modern cit… He saw a beggar on the street, Where the tides of traffic meet. A pair of brass-bound hickory pegs
The night is old, and all the worl… Is wearied out with strife; A long gray mist lies heavy and wa… Above the house of life. Four stars burn up and are unquell…
Tug at the net, Haul at the net, Strip off the quivering fish; Hid in the mist The winds whist,
To ports of balm through isles of… The gentle airs are leading us; To curtained calm and tents of dus… The wood-wild things unheeding us Will share their hoards of hardiho…