Poetry

T. D. McGee By  James McIntyre Having been kindly invited as a member of the Mechanics' Institute some 25 years ago by the late Jeremiah O'Ne…

Feuilles d'Automne By  Duncan Campbell Scott Gather the leaves from the forest     And blow them over the world, The wind of winter follows     T…

Butterflies By  Rudyard Kipling Eyes aloft, over dangerous places, The children follow the butterflies, And, in the sweat of their upturned faces, Sl…

The Apparition By  Duncan Campbell Scott Gentle angel with your mantle,     All of tender green, I was yearning for a vision     Of the life unseen. …

Monody On a Lady Famed for her Caprice By  Robert Burns How cold is that bosom which folly once fired,     How pale is that cheek where the rouge lat…

The Snow By  Emily Dickinson It sifts from leaden sieves, It powders all the wood, It fills with alabaster wool The wrinkles of the road. It makes an…

More Strong Than Time By Victor Hugo Since I have set my lips to your full cup, my sweet,     Since I my pallid face between your hands have…

On A Swiss Mountain By  Frank Oliver Call Lad, the mighty hills are calling,     Hills of promise gleaming bright, And the floods of sunshine falling…

The Kitchen Chimney By  Robert Lee Frost Builder, in building the little house, In every way you may please yourself; But please please me in the kit…

A British-Roman Song By  Rudyard Kipling My father's father saw it not,     And I, belike, shall never come, To look on that so-holy spot —      …

The Golden Bowl (On seeing a picture of a boy gazing at a golden bowl which among Eastern nations was a symbol of life) By  Frank Oliver Call In a dr…