Lucy Maud Montgomery
Morning along Shore
Hark, oh hark the elfin laughter All the little waves along, As if echoes speeding after Mocked a merry merman’s song! All the gulls are out, delighting In a wild, uncharted quest See the
The Old Man's Grave
Make it where the winds may sweep Through the pine boughs soft and deep, And the murmur of the sea Come across the orient lea, And the falling raindrops sing Gently to his slumbering.
Two Loves
One said; “Lo, I would walk hand-clasped with thee Adown the ways of joy and sunlit slopes Of earthly song in happiest vagrancy To pluck the blossom of a thousand hopes. Let us together
The Wood Pool
Here is a voice that soundeth low and far And lyricÂvoice of wind among the pines, Where the untroubled, glimmering waters are, And sunlight seldom shines. Elusive shadows linger shyly here, And wood-flowers blow,
Forever
I With you I shall ever be; Over land and sea My thoughts will companion you; With yours shall my laughter chime, And my step keep time In the dusk and dew With yours
When the Dark Comes Down
When the dark comes down, oh, the wind is on the sea With lisping laugh and whimper to the red reef’s threnody, The boats are sailing homeward now across the harbor bar With many
A Day Off
Let us put awhile away All the cares of work-a-day, For a golden time forget, Task and worry, toil and fret, Let us take a day to dream In the meadow by the stream.
For Little Things
Last night I looked across the hills And through an arch of darkling pine Low-swung against a limpid west I saw a young moon shine. And as I gazed there blew a wind, Loosed
Spring Song
Hark, I hear a robin calling! List, the wind is from the south! And the orchard-bloom is falling Sweet as kisses on the mouth. In the dreamy vale of beeches Fair and faint is
The Truce of Night
Lo, it is dark, Save for the crystal spark Of a virgin star o’er the purpling lea, Or the fine, keen, silvery grace of a young Moon that is hung O’er the priest-like firs
Memory Pictures
I A wide-spring meadow in a rosy dawn Bedropt with virgin buds; an orient sky Fleeced with a dappled cloud but half withdrawn; A mad wind blowing by, O’er slopes of rippling grass and
At the Long Sault
A prisoner under the stars I lie, With no friend near; To-morrow they lead me forth to die, The stake is ready, the torments set, They will pay in full their deadly debt; But
Among the Pines
Here let us linger at will and delightsomely hearken Music aeolian of wind in the boughs of pine, Timbrel of falling waters, sounds all soft and sonorous, Worshipful litanies sung at a bannered shrine.
The Old Home Calls
Come back to me, little dancing feet that roam the wide world o’er, I long for the lilt of your flying steps in my silent rooms once more; Come back to me, little voices
The Poet's Thought
It came to him in rainbow dreams, Blent with the wisdom of the sages, Of spirit and of passion born; In words as lucent as the morn He prisoned it, and now it gleams