#CanadianWriters
The long days came and went; the r… Tore the warm grapes in many a dus… And men grew faint and thin with t… And Winter gave no sign: But all the while beyond the north…
I passed through the gates of the… The streets were strange and still… Through the doors of the open chur… The organs were moaning shrill. Through the doors and the great hi…
O differing human heart, Why is it that I tremble when thi… Thy human eyes and beautiful human… Draw me, and stir within my soul That subtle ineradicable longing
‘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…
Not, not for thee, Belovèd child, the burning grasp… Shall bruise the tender soul. The… And clamor of midday thou shalt no… But wrapped for ever in thy quiet…
Before me grew the human soul, And after I am dead and gone, Through grades of effort and contr… The marvellous work shall still go… Each mortal in his little span
Under the day-long sun there is li… In the working earth, And the wonderful moon shines brig… Through the soft spring night, The innocent flowers in the limitl…
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…
From this windy bridge at rest, In some former curious hour, We have watched the city’s hue, All along the orange west, Cupola and pointed tower,
Mad with love and laden With immortal pain, Pan pursued a maiden— Pan, the god—in vain. For when Pan had nearly
I stand at noon upon the heated fl… At the bleached crossing of two st… With brain scarce conscious now th… Of noonday passengers is done. Tw… Stand at an open doorway piled wit…
Far up in the wild and wintery hil… woods, Where the mounded drifts lie soft… The hut of the lonely woodcutter s… A blunted peak and a low black lin…
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…
Oh city, whom grey stormy hands ha… With restless drift, scarce broken… Out of the dark thy windows dim an… Gleam red across the storm. Sound… Save evermore the fierce wind’s sw…
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…