#Canadians
Didst thou not tease and fret me t… Sweet spirit of this summer-circle… With that quiet voice of thine tha… Its meaning, though I mused and s… But now I am content to let it go…
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…
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;
Let us be much with Nature; not a… That labour without seeing, that e… Her unloved forces, blindly withou… Nor those whose hands and crude de… The old brute passion to hunt down…
Day and night pass over, rounding, Star and cloud and sun, Things of drift and shadow, empty Of my dearest one. Soft as slumber was my baby,
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…
Long hours ago, while yet the morn… Nor sharp athirst had drunk the be… A reaper came, and swung his cradl… Around this stump, and, shearing s… Far round among the clover, ripe f…
Where swallows and wheatfields are… O hamlet brown and still, O river that shineth far, By meadow, pier, and mill: O endless sunsteeped plain,
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…
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…
Move on, light hands, so strongly… Now with dropped calm and yearning… Now swift and loud, tumultuously s… And I in darkness, sitting near t… Shall not only hear, and feel, but…
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,…
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…
Beside the pounding cataracts Of midnight streams unknown to us ’Tis builded in the leafless tract… And valleys huge of Tartarus. Lurid and lofty and vast it seems;
A little while, a year agone, I knew her for a romping child, A dimple and a glance that shone With idle mischief when she smiled… To-day she passed me in the press,