#Canadians
The dew is gleaming in the grass, The morning hours are seven, And I am fain to watch you pass, Ye soft white clouds of heaven. Ye stray and gather, part and fold…
O Power to whom this earthly clim… Is but an atom in the whole, O Poet-heart of Space and Time, O Maker and Immortal Soul, Within whose glowing rings are bou…
Oh deep-eyed brothers was there ev… Or is there now, or shall there so… Harbour or any rest for such as we… Lone thin-cheeked mariners, that a… Our whispering barks with such kee…
As a weed beneath the ocean, As a pool beneath a tree Answers with each breath or motion An imperious mastery; So my spirit swift with passion
Comfort the sorrowful with watchfu… In silence, for the tongue cannot… Vex not his wounds with rhetoric,… Worn truths, that are but maddenin… To him whose grief outmasters all…
How the returning days, one after… Came ever in their rhythmic round,… Yet from each looped robe for ever… Some new thing falls. Happy is he Who fronts them without fear, and…
There is no break in all the wide… Nor light on any field, and the wi… And talks of death. Where cold gr… Round greyer stones, and the new-f… Heap the chill hollows of the nake…
The leafless forests slowly yield To the thick-driving snow. A litt… And night shall darken down. In s… The woodmen’s carts go by me homew… Past the thin fading stubbles, hal…
With a turn of his magical rod, That extended and suddenly shone, From the round of his glory some g… Looks forth and is gone. To the summit of heaven the clouds
Scarcely a breath about the rocky… Moved, but the growing tide from v… Heaving salt fragrance on the midn… Climbed with a murmurous and fitfu… A hoary mist rose up and slowly sh…
How still it is here in the woods.… Stand motionless, as if they did n… To stir, lest it should break the… Hangs quiet as spaces in a marble… Even this little brook, that runs…
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…
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…
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…
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,
