#CanadianWriters
Beloved, 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…
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…
I lie upon my bed and hear and see… The moon is rising through the gli… And momently a great and sombre br… With a vast voice returning fitful… Comes like a deep-toned grief, and…
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…
Heavy with haze that merges and me… Into the measureless depth on eith… The full day rests upon the lumino… In one long noon of golden reverie… Now hath the harvest come and gone…
Or whether sad or joyous be her ho… Yet ever is she good and ever fair… If she be glad, ’tis like a child’… Who claps her hands above a heap o… And if she’s sad, it is no cloud t…
Sweet summer is gone; they have la… The last sad hours that were touch… In the hush where the ghosts of th… The sleep that is sweet of her slu… Let not a sight or a sound erase
The old grey year is near his term… And now with backward eye and soft… Awakens to a golden dream of youth… A second childhood lovely and most… And the smooth hour about his mist…
There is singing of birds in the d… In the heart of the listening soli… Pewees, and thrushes, and sparrows… And all the notes of their throats… The thrush from the innermost ash…
Once idly in his hall king Olave… Pondering, and with his dagger whi… And one draw near to him with aust… Saying ‘To-morrow is Monday,’ and… The king said nothing, but held fo…
On such a day the shrunken stream Spends its last water and runs dry… Clouds like far turrets in a dream Stand baseless in the burning sky. On such a day at every rod
For three whole days across the sk… In sullen packs that loomed and br… With flying fringes dim as smoke, The columns of the rain went by; At every hour the wind awoke;
The King’s son walks in the garde… Oh, the maiden’s heart is merry! He little knows for his toil and c… That the bride is gone and the bow… Put on garments of white, my maide…
From where I sit, I see the stars… And down the chilly floor The moon between the frozen bars Is glimmering dim and hoar. Without in many a peakèd mound
All day between high-curded clouds… Shone down like summer on the stea… The long, bright icicles in dwindl… Dripped from the murmuring eaves t… They fell. As if the spring had n…