#CanadianWriters
Oh ye, who found in men’s brief wa… Of strength or help, so cast them… Your whole souls up to one ye deem… Nor failed nor doubted but held fa… Seeing before you that divine face…
By the Nile, the sacred river, I can see the captive hordes, Strain beneath the lash and quiver At the long papyrus cords, While in granite rapt and solemn,
What would’st thou have for easeme… When the rude world hath used thee… And care sits at thine elbow day a… Filching thy pleasures like a subt… To me, when life besets me in such…
Belovèd, those who moan of love’s… Shall find but little grace with m… Who know too well this passion’s t… To deem that it shall lightly pass… A moment’s interlude in life’s dul…
One after one the high emotions fa… Time’s wheeling measure empties an… Year after year; we seek no more t… That lured our youth divine and un… But swarming on some common highwa…
The trees rustle; the wind blows Merrily out of the town; The shadows creep, the sun goes Steadily over and down. In a brown gloom the moats gleam;
Oh night and sleep, Ye are so soft and deep, I am so weary, come ye soon to me. Oh hours that creep, With so much time to weep,
Canst thou not rest, O city, That liest so wide and fair; Shall never an hour bring pity, Nor end be found for care? Thy walls are high in heaven,
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…
All day upon the garden bright The suns shines strong, But in my heart there is no light, Or any song. Voices of merry life go by,
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…
The earth is the cup of the sun, That he filleth at morning with wi… With the warm, strong wine of his… From the vintage of gold and of li… Fills it, and makes it divine.
Already in the dew-wrapped vineyar… Dense weights of heat press down.… Shrink in the leaves. From dark a… The nuthatch flings his short reit… And ever as the sun mounts hot and…
In days, when the fruit of men’s l… And hearts were weary and nigh to… A sweet grave man with a beautiful… Came to us once in the fields and… He told us of Roma, the marvellou…
How deep the April night is in it… The hopeful, solemn, many-murmured… The earth lies hushed with expecta… Above the world’s dark border burn… Yellow and large; from forest floo…