#CanadianWriters
The world is bright with beauty, a… Are filled with music; could we on… True ends from false, and lofty th… Could we but tear away the walls t… Our very elbows in life’s frosty w…
Once, long ago, before the gods Had left this earth, by stream and… Where the first plough upturned th… Or the lost shepherd strayed, Often to the tired listener’s ear
What is more large than knowledge… Knowledge of thoughts and deeds, o… Of passions and of beauties and of… Knowledge of life; to feel its gre… Through all the soul upon her crys…
Out of the Northland sombre weird… A shadow falleth southward day by… Sad summers arms grow cold; his fi… His feet draw back to give the ste… It is the voice and shadow of the…
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…
We have not heard the music of the… The song of star to star, but ther… More deep than human joy and human… That Nature uses in her common ro… The fall of streams, the cry of wi…
The wind-swayed daisies, that on e… Throng the wide fields in whisperi… Serene and gently smiling like the… Of tender children long beatified, The delicate thought-wrapped butte…
Broad shadows fall. On all the mo… The scythe-swept fields are silent… By the long beach the high-piled h… Splashing the pale salt shallows.… Fawn-coloured wastes of mud the sl…
I love the warm bare earth and all That works and dreams thereon: I love the seasons yet to fall: I love the ages gone, The valleys with the sheeted grain…
‘Grotesque!’ we said, the moment w… For there he stood, supreme in his… With short ears close together and… Planted irregularly: first we trie… With jokes, but they were lost; we…
Dear dark-brown waters full of all… Of sombre spruce-woods and the for… Laden with sound from far-off nort… Where winds and craggy cataracts c… Voices of streams and mountain pin…
Once on the year’s last eve in my… Sitting in dreams, not sad, nor qu… Balancing all 'twixt wonder and de… Methought my body and all this wor… And vanished from me, as a dream,…
I heard the city time-bells call Far off in hollow towers, And one by one with measured fall Count out the old dead hours; I felt the march, the silent press
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…
With loitering step and quiet eye, Beneath the low November sky, I wandered in the woods, and found A clearing, where the broken groun… Was scattered with black stumps an…