Little brown baby-bird, lapped in… Wrapped in your nest, Strapped in your nest, Your straight little cradle-board… Its hands are your nest;

MUSKOKA A stream of tender gladness, Of filmy sun, and opal tinted skie… Of warm midsummer air that lightly… In mystic rings,

Across the street, an humble woman… To her ’tis little fortune ever gi… Denied the wines of life, it puzzl… To know how she can laugh so cheer… This morn I listened to her softl…

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,…

Soulless is all humanity to me To-night. My keenest longing is t… Alone, alone with God’s grey eart… Pulse of my pulse and consort of m… To-night my soul desires no fellow…

There is a lonely minor chord that… Faintly and far along the forest w… When the firs finger faintly on th… Of that rare violin the night wind… Just as it whispered once to you a…

The wild grape mantling the trail… Festoons in graceful veils its dra… Its tendrils cling, as clings the… By some evasive haunting tune, twi…

(INSCRIBED TO ONE BEYO… Know by the thread of music woven… This fragile web of cadences I sp… That I have only caught these son… Voiced them upon your haunting vio…

The autumn afternoon is dying o’er The quiet western valley where I… Beneath the maples on the river sh… Where tinted leaves, blue waters a… Environ all; and far above some bi…

Pillowed and hushed on the silent… Wrapped in her mantle of golden gr… Wearied of pleasuring weeks away, Summer is lying asleep to-day,— Where winds come sweet from the wi…

A meadow brown; across the yonder… A zigzag fence is ambling; here a… Of underbush has cleft its course… Till where beyond it staggers up a… The long, grey rails stretch in a…

Sob of fall, and song of forest, c… Calling through the seas and silen… Where the mountain pass is narrow,… Down its rocky-throated canyon, si… You are singing there together thr…

Not of the seething cities with th… Their fetid airs, their reeking st… Not of the buried yesterdays, but… The glory and the gateway of the y… The Northern Lights dance down he…

Little Lady Icicle is dreaming in… And gleaming in the north-land, he… For the frost has come and found h… With an ermine robe around her Where little Lady Icicle lies dre…

At husking time the tassel fades To brown above the yellow blades, Whose rustling sheath enswathes th… That bursts its chrysalis in scorn Longer to lie in prison shades.