#CanadianWriters #FemaleWriters
WHEN I shall go to sleep and wak… At dawning in another world than t… What will atone to me for all I m… The light melodious footsteps of t… The press of leaves against my win…
HOW dear to hearts by hurtful noi… In the stillness of the many-leavè… The quiet of green hills, the mill… Tranquility of night, the endless… Of silence in deep wilds, where na…
How dear to hearts by hurtful nois… In the stillness of the many-leavÃ… The quiet of green hills, the mill… Tranquillity of night, the endless… Of silence in deep wilds, where na…
I SAW a mother holding Her play-worn baby son, Her pliant arms enfolding The drooping little one. Her lips were made of sweetness,
Here in the crowded city’s busy st… Swayed by the eager, jostling, has… Where Traffic’s voice grows harsh… I see within the stream of hurryin… A company of trees in their retrea…
UNTO my friends I give my though… Unto my God my soul, Unto my foe I leave my love– These are of life the whole. Nay, there is something–a trifle–l…
ONE day I caught up with my ange… Who calls me bell-like from a sky-… ’Twas in my roof-room, at the stil… Of a still, sunless day, when sudd… A flood of deep unreasoned ecstasy
Here where tumultuous vines Shadow the porch at the west, Leaf with tendril entwines Under a song sparrow’s nest. She in her pendulous nook
THE wind of death, that softly bl… The last warm petal from the rose, The last dry leaf from off the tre… To-night has come to breathe on me… There was a time I learned to hat…
The Great soft downy snow storm l… Descends to wrap the lean world he… It gives the dead another winding… It buries all the roofs until the… Seems like a soul that from its cl…
WHEN I see, High on the tip-top twig of a tree… Something blue by the breezes stir… But so far up that the blue is blu… So far up no green leaf flies
O Master-Builder, blustering as y… About your giant work, transformin… The empty woods into a glittering… And making lilac lanes and footpat… As hard as iron under stubborn sno…
OPE your doors and take me in, Spirit of the wood; Wash me clean of dust and din, Clothe me in your mood. Take me from the noisy light
IF one might live ten years among… Ten–only ten–of all a life’s long… Who would not choose a childhood '… Low-sloping to some slender footpa… With the young grass about his chi…
MUCK of the sty, reek of the tro… Blackened my brow where all might… Yet while I was a great way off My Father ran with compassion for… He put on my hand a ring of gold,
