Works

When sycamore leaves wer a-spreaden
Green-ruddy in hedges,
Bezide the red doust o' the ridges,
A-dried at Woak Hill;

I packed up my goods, all a-sheenen
Wi' long years o' handlen,...

'The hills like giants at a hunting lay
Chin upon hand, to see the game at bay.'
- Browning.



You'll take my tale with a little salt,
But it needs none, nevertheless,...

"I would rather have written those lines than take Quebec to-morrow." - Wolfe, on hearing Gray's "Elegy" read the night before the capture of Quebec.

Thou need'st no marble monuments to keep...

Let me talk of years evanished, let me harp upon the time
When we trod these sands together, in our boyhood's golden prime;
Let me lift again the curtain, while I gaze upon the past,...

"Yes, sir, it's quite a story, though you won't believe it's true,
But such things happened often when I lived beyond the Soo."
And the trapper tilted back his chair and filled his pipe anew.
...

People shed blood in the battles:
So many thousands die every day!
Feeling the smell of pray, nearby
The wolves are hunting about all night long.
The wolves' eyes are shining:...

Strange are the ways that her feet have trod
Since first she was set in the path of duty,
Finished and fair by the hand of God,
To carry her message of love and beauty.
Delicate creature of light and shade,...

I call thee angel of this earth,
For angel true thou art
In noble deeds and sterling worth
And sympathetic heart.
I, therefore, seek none from afar
For what they might have been,...

Away, away--you're all the same,
A smiling, fluttering, jilting throng;
And, wise too late, I burn with shame,
To think I've been your slave so long.

Slow to be won, and quick to rove,...

O Woman, lovely Woman, magic flower,
What loves, what pleasures in thy graces meet!
Thou blushing blossom, dropt from Eden's bower;
Thou fair exotic, delicately sweet!--...

Not faultless, for she was not fashioned so,
A mingling of the bitter and the sweet;
Lips that can laugh and sigh and whisper low
Of hope and trust and happiness complete,...

Ah, woman!--in this world of ours,
What boon can be compared to thee?--
How slow would drag life's weary hours,
Though man's proud brow were bound with flowers,
And his the wealth of land and sea,...

I've had my share of bright employ,
My share of pain and blame,
But thro' it all, I've thought, with joy,
Of tender woman's name.

Her healing tones have often brought
New gladness to my soul;...

She must be honest, both in thought and deed,
Of generous impulse, and above all greed;
Not seeking praise, or place, or power, or pelf,
But life's best blessings for her higher self,...

I

The summer takes its hue
From something opulent as fair in her,
And the bright heaven is brighter than it was;
Brighter and lovelier,
Arching its beautiful blue,...

When I go rowing on the lake,
I long to be a man;
I'll give my Sunday frock to have
A callous heart like Dan.

I love the ripple of the waves
When gliding o'er the deep,...

"It is a subject suited to the genius of the poet who wrote 'Bad Dreams,'" remarked the Professor as he abandoned himself wearily to the luxuriance of his armchair. What was there to be done? Absolutely nothing; and the fabric ...

Sometimes I long to write an ode
And magnify his name,
The man of honor, on the road
To opulence and fame,
On whom was never aid bestowed
By any helpful dame.
...

Sweet lies! the sweetest ever heard,
To her he said:
Her heart remembers every word
Now he is dead.

I ask:" If thus his lies can make
Your young heart grieve for his false sake,...

A maiden meek, with solemn, steadfast eyes,
Full of eternal constancy and faith,
And smiling lips, through whose soft portal sighs
Truth's holy voice, with ev'ry balmy breath;...