#CanadianWriters
I am sailing to the leeward, Where the current runs to seaward Soft and slow, Where the sleeping river grasses Brush my paddle as it passes
October’s orchestra plays softly o… The northern forest with its thous… And Autumn, the conductor wields… The Golden-rod—The baton that he…
All yesterday the thought of you w… And when sleep wandered o’er the w… To fill my dreams with splendour s… And in the morn I wakened with yo… Awakened, my beloved, to the morni…
It is dusk on the Lost Lagoon, And we two dreaming the dusk away, Beneath the drift of a twilight gr… Beneath the drowse of an ending da… And the curve of a golden moon.
Not of the seething cities with th… Their fetid airs, their reeking st… Not of the buried yesterdays, but… The glory and the gateway of the y… The Northern Lights dance down he…
There is no song his colours canno… For all his art breathes melody, a… The fine, keen beauty that his bru… To murmuring marbles and to golden… The music of those marbles you can…
I may not go to-night to Bethlehe… Nor follow star-directed ways, nor… The paths wherein the shepherds wa… To Christ, and peace, and God’s g… I may not hear the Herald Angel’s…
Music, music with throb and swing, Of a plaintive note, and long; ’Tis a note no human throat could… No harp with its dulcet golden str… Nor lute, nor lyre with liquid rin…
Sounds of the seas grow fainter, Sounds of the sands have sped; The sweep of gales, The far white sails, Are silent, spent and dead.
A trail upwinds from Golden; It leads to a land God only knows… To the land of eternal frozen snow… That trail unknown and olden. And they tell a tale that is stran…
’Tis morning now, yet silently I… Uplift the curtain with a weary ha… Look out while darkness overspread… And long for day. Calm peace is frighted with my moo…
Across the street, an humble woman… To her ’tis little fortune ever gi… Denied the wines of life, it puzzl… To know how she can laugh so cheer… This morn I listened to her softl…
Soulless is all humanity to me To-night. My keenest longing is t… Alone, alone with God’s grey eart… Pulse of my pulse and consort of m… To-night my soul desires no fellow…
The autumn afternoon is dying o’er The quiet western valley where I… Beneath the maples on the river sh… Where tinted leaves, blue waters a… Environ all; and far above some bi…
Born on the breast of the prairie,… Robed in the wealth of her wheat-l… Affluence knocks at her gateways,… Nuggets of gold are her acres, yie… Dream of the hungry millions, dawn…