Works

Unbroken peace, I ween, is sweeter far
Than reconciliation. Love's red scar,
Though salved with kiss of penitence, and tears,
Remains, full oft, unhealed through all the years.

Do you remember that June day among
The hills, the high, far-reaching Sussex hills?
Above, the straggling flocks of fleecy clouds
That skipped and chased each other merrily...

Quebec, the gray old city on the hill,
Lies, with a golden glory on her head,
Dreaming throughout this hour so fair, so still,
Of other days and her belov'd dead.
The doves are nesting in the cannons grim,...

1837.


The sunshine streaming through the stain'd glass
Touched her with rosy colors as she stood,
The maiden Queen of all the British realm,
In the old Abbey on that soft June day....

"Once they were lovers," says the world, "with young hearts all aglow;
They have forgotten," says the world, "forgotten long ago."
Between ourselves - just whisper it - the old world does not know.
...

He does the devil's basest work, no less,
Who deals in calumnies - who throws the mire
On snowy robes whose hem he dare not press
His foul lips to. The pity of it! Liar,...

I was the slyest boy at home,
The slyest boy at school,
I wanted all the world to know
That I was no one's fool.

I kept my childish hopes and schemes
Locked closely in my breast,...

They're praying for the soldier lads in grim old London town;
Last night I went, myself, and heard a bishop in his gown
Confiding to the Lord of Hosts his views of this affair....

Sing, ye ripening fields of wheat,
Sing to the breezes passing by,
Sing your jubilant song and sweet,
Sing to the earth, the air, the sky!

Earth that held thee and skies that kissed...

O the frozen valley and frozen hill make a coffin wide and deep,
And the dead river lies, all its laughter stilled within it, fast asleep.
...

Wha cares if skies be dull and gray?
Wha heeds November weather?
Let ilka Scot be glad to-day
The whole wide warl' thegither.

We're a' a prood and stubborn lot,
And clannish - sae fowk name us -...

There's an Isle, a green Isle, set in the sea,
Here's to the Saint that blessed it!
And here's to the billows wild and free
That for centuries have caressed it!

Here's to the day when the men that roam...

Write on Life's tablet all things tender, great and good,
Uncaring that full oft thou art misunderstood.
Interpretation true is foreign to the throng
That runs and reads; heed not its praise or blame. Be strong!...

The girl's a slender thing and fair,
With dimpled cheek and eyes ashine;
The youth is tall, with bashful air.
Heigho! a fond and foolish pair -
The day is yours, St. Valentine.
...

The river is a ribbon wide,
The falls a snowy feather,
And stretching far on ilka side
Are hills abloom wi' heather.
The wind comes loitering frae the west
By weight o' sweets retarded;...

I thank Thee, Lord,
For every joyous hour
That has been mine!
For every strengthening and helpful word,
For every tender sound that I have heard,
I thank Thee, Lord!

I thank Thee, Lord,...

"As friend," she said, "I will be kind,
My sympathy will rarely fail,
My eyes to many faults be blind -
As wife, I'll lecture, scold, and rail,

"Be full of moods, a shrew one day,...

The sunset has faded, there's but a tinge,
Saffron pale, where a star of white
Has tangled itself in the trailing fringe
Of the pearl-gray robe of the summer night.
...

The day she came we were planting corn,
The west eighty-acre field, -
These prairie farms are great for size,
And they're sometimes great for yield.

"The new school-ma'am is up to the house,"...

O the gayest of musicians! O the gladdest thing on earth,
With its piping and its chirping, is the cricket on the hearth!
There is magic in the music that he flings us with such zest:...