Poetry Books

SÉANCE AT SUNRISEPlace the new handsIn the old handsOf the old generation,And let us tilt tablesIn the high roomOf our imagination.Let the thick veil glow thin,At sunrise—at sunrise—Let the strange eyes peer in,The red, the black, and the white facesOf the still living deadOf the three races.Let a quaint voice begin: Voice of an Indian "Gone from the land,We leave the music of our names,As... more...

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THE CONFUSED DAWN. YOUNG MAN  What are the Vision and the CryThat haunt the new Canadian soul?  Dim grandeur spreads we know not whyO'er mountain, forest, tree and knoll,  And murmurs indistinctly fly.—  Some magic moment sure is nigh.O Seer, the curtain roll! SEERThe Vision, mortal, it is this—  Dead mountain, forest, knoll and treeAwaken all endued with bliss,  A native land—O... more...

CANTO XXIX SO were mine eyes inebriate with viewOf the vast multitude, whom various woundsDisfigur'd, that they long'd to stay and weep. But Virgil rous'd me: "What yet gazest on?Wherefore doth fasten yet thy sight belowAmong the maim'd and miserable shades?Thou hast not shewn in any chasm besideThis weakness.  Know, if thou wouldst number themThat two and twenty miles the... more...

Some do endyte / vpon good moralyte Of chyualrous actes / done in antyquyte Whose fables and storyes ben pastymes pleasaunt To lordes and ladyes / as is theyr lykynge Dyuers to moralyte / ben oft attendaunt And many delyte to rede of louynge Youth loueth aduenture / pleasure and lykynge Aege foloweth polycy / sadnesse and prudence Thus they do dyffre / eche in experyence I lytell or nought / experte in... more...

INTRODUCTION. o have attempted in former times a work of this description, would have seemed, we cannot deny, to savour either of presumption or of idiotcy, or more probably of both. And rightly. But we live in times of progress. The mystery of yesterday is the common-place of to-day; the Bible, which was Newton's oracle, is Professor Huxley's jest-book; and students at the University now... more...

RETROSPECTION.I'd wandered, for a week or more,Through hills, and dells, and doleful green'ry,Lodging at any carnal door,Sustaining life on pork, and scenery.A weary scribe, I'd just let slipMy collar, for a short vacation,And started on a walking trip,That cheapest form of dissipation—And vilest, Oh! confess my pen,That I, prosaic, rather hate your"Ode to a Sky-lark" sort of... more...

THE AULD DOCTOR. O' a' the jobs that sweat the sarkGie me a kintra doctor's wark,Ye ca' awa' frae dawn till dark,Whate'er the weather be, O! Some tinkler wife is in the strae,Your boots are owre the taps wi' clayThrough wadin' bog an' sklimmin' braeThe besom for to see, O! Ye ken auld Jock o' Windybarns?The bull had near ca'ed oot his... more...

PREFACE. The original, of which this is a translation, is universally considered one of the very best among many beautiful poems written by the same illustrious author. The sublime didactic thoughts therein expressed, in language majestic and yet so simple, have won for it a constantly increasing popularity; and, during half a century, in a language so rich in literary beauties as the Swedish, have... more...

APPLES so round, and bright, and red—O, how I love to see;They look so tempting as they hangUpon the green old tree. A naughty boy once tried to stealFrom off his neighbor's bough;But sad to hear, adown he fell,And is a cripple now.   BOYS oftentimes are rough and rude,And join in wicked play;But hoop and top, and bat and ball,Are better any day. "Hark! hark! I hear a tinkling bell;It... more...