Old Poetry Poetry Poets Essays Forums
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  • Because, dear Christ, your tender, wounded arm
    Bends back the brier that edges life's long way,
    12 lines, 1 comment
  • ``False,\
    52 lines, 3 comments
  • West wind, blow from your prairie nest,
      Blow from the mountains, blow from the west
    52 lines, 1 comment
  • Lent gathers up her cloak of sombre shading
    In her reluctant hands.
    32 lines
  • Like a grey shadow lurking in the light,
    He ventures forth along the edge of night;
    22 lines
  • A trail upwinds from Golden;
    It leads to a land God only knows,
    31 lines
  • Halifax sits on her hills by the sea
      In the might of her pride,—
    13 lines
  • We first saw light in Canada, the land beloved of God;
    We are the pulse of Canada, its marrow and its blood:
    20 lines
  • What dream you in the night-time
    When you whisper to the moon?
    18 lines
  • Pillowed and hushed on the silent plain,
    Wrapped in her mantle of golden grain,
    25 lines
  • Lady Lorgnette, of the lifted lash,
    The curling lip and the dainty nose,
    30 lines
  • The long red flats stretch open to the sky,
    Breathing their moisture on the August air.
    19 lines
  • Speak of you, sir? You bet he did. Ben Fields was far too sound
    To go back on a fellow just because he weren't around.
    65 lines
  • Once more adrift.
    O'er dappling sea and broad lagoon,
    26 lines
  • Little brown baby-bird, lapped in your nest,
    Wrapped in your nest,
    20 lines, 2 comments
  • Hard by the Indian lodges, where the bush
    Breaks in a clearing, through ill-fashioned fields,
    12 lines
  • I swing to the sunset land--
    The world of prairie, the world of plain,
    15 lines
  • I swing to the land of morn;
    The grey old east with its grey old seas,
    15 lines
  • Time and its ally, Dark Disarmament,
        Have compassed me about,
    21 lines
  • At Crow's Nest Pass the mountains rend
    Themselves apart, the rivers wend
    17 lines
  • There was a man--a Jew of kingly blood,
    But of the people--poor and lowly born,
    40 lines, 1 comment
  • Methinks I see your mirror frame,
    Ornate with photographs of them.
    24 lines
  • To none the city bends a servile knee;
    Purse-proud and scornful, on her heights she stands,
    18 lines
  • And only where the forest fires have sped,
      Scorching relentlessly the cool north lands,
    10 lines, 1 comment
  • There's wine in the cup, Vancouver,
      And there's warmth in my heart for you,
    32 lines
  • Little Lady Icicle is dreaming in the north-land
    And gleaming in the north-land, her pillow all a-glow;
    25 lines
  • I am the one who loved her as my life,
    Had watched her grow to sweet young womanhood;
    90 lines
  • There is no song his colours cannot sing,
    For all his art breathes melody, and tunes
    20 lines
  • Sounds of the seas grow fainter,
      Sounds of the sands have sped;
    10 lines, 2 comments
  • Born on the breast of the prairie, she smiles to her sire--the sun,
    Robed in the wealth of her wheat-lands, gift of her mothering soil,
    7 lines
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