Measures of oil for others, Oil and red wine, Lips laugh and drink, but never Are the lips mine. Worlds at the feet of others,

A trail upwinds from Golden; It leads to a land God only knows… To the land of eternal frozen snow… That trail unknown and olden. And they tell a tale that is stran…

What saw you in your flight to-day… Crows, awinging your homeward way? Went you far in carrion quest, Crows, that worry the sunless west… Thieves and villains, you shameles…

Halifax sits on her hills by the s… In the might of her pride,— Invincible, terrible, beautiful, s… With a sword at her side. To right and to left of her, battl…

Night of Mid-June, in heavy vapou… Like priestly hands thy holy touch… Upon the world’s wide brow; God-like and grand all nature is c… The “peace that passes human under…

Born on the breast of the prairie,… Robed in the wealth of her wheat-l… Affluence knocks at her gateways,… Nuggets of gold are her acres, yie… Dream of the hungry millions, dawn…

The lost wind wandering, forever g… Low overhead, Above grey mosses whispering of le… Fallen and dead. And through the lonely night sweep…

We first saw light in Canada, the… We are the pulse of Canada, its m… And we, the men of Canada, can fa… That we were born in Canada benea… Few of us have the blood of kings,…

To-night the west o’er-brims with… Its chalice overflows With pools of purple colouring the… Aflood with gold and rose; And some hot soul seems throbbing…

From out the west, where darkling… The 'waking wind pipes soft its ri… From out the west, o’erhung with f… The wind preludes with sighs its r… Then blowing, singing, piping, lau…

Sounds of the seas grow fainter, Sounds of the sands have sped; The sweep of gales, The far white sails, Are silent, spent and dead.

There are fires on Lulu Island, a… With the pearl and purple tinting… And the Dream Hills lift their su… With the Capilano canyon at their… There are fires on Lulu Island, a…

And then the sound of marching arm… Amid the branches of the soldier o… And tempests ceased their warring… The lashing storms that muttered,… Choked by the heralding of battle…

A sweet high treble threads its si… Voice of the restless aspen, fine… It trills its pure soprano, light… Like the vibretto of a mandolin.

Cards, and swords, and a lady’s lo… That is a tale worth reading, An insult veiled, a downcast glove… And rapiers leap unheeding. And ’tis O! for the brawl,