November, by Edith Willis Linn Forbes
Lush summer had her lavish treasure hurled
On ...
Maple Poems
The Bluebird, by Edna Dean Proctor
I am so blithe and glad today!
At morn I heard...
In Time of Autumn, by Edward Robeson Taylor
I do remember in the Long Ago
How flamed the m...
Autumn Flowers, by Eliza Allen Starr
1843. DEERFIELD. The wild Asters and the Golde...
Ontiora, by Henry Abbey
Moons on moons ago,
In the sleep, or night, ...
Autumn, by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
With what a glory comes and goes the year!
The...
Burial of the Minnisink, by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
On sunny slope and beechen swell,
The shadowe...
To the Driving Cloud, by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Gloomy and dark art thou, O chief of the might...
Birth of Canada as a Nation, July First, 1867, by James McIntyre
Hail Britannia's noblest daughter,
Who is sur...
Canadian Rivers and Lakes, by James McIntyre
We have here a sight as fair
As bonnie Doon or...
North-West Rebellion, 1885, by James McIntyre
Hail Canada our young fair land,
The world's ...
The Courtin', by James Russell Lowell
God makes sech nights, all white an' still
Fu...
The Bluebird, by John Burroughs
A wistful note from out the sky,
"Pure, pure...
Early May, by John Burroughs
The time that hints the coming leaf,
When bud...
In October, by John Burroughs
Now comes the sunset of the verdant year,
Che...
A March Glee, by John Burroughs
I hear the wild geese honking
From out the mis...
Another Winter, by Judith Skillman
- after Jehuda Amichai The pain-people have re...
Summer Winds, by Margaret Adams Hobbs
They rush along, the daughters of the wind,
...
The Dream House, by Marjorie Allen Seiffert
I steal across the sodden floor
And dead leave...
A Summer Afternoon, by Mary Dow Brine
A daisied meadow lying fair under a summer sky;...
The Changed Life, by Mary T. Lathrap
'T is a land of old romance and story, --
The ...
No More, by Mary T. Lathrap
No more beneath the linden,
Or in a maple gro...
The Country Road, by Robert McIntyre
Old meandering country road, to thy track I tu...
When the Gold is on the Willow, by Robert McIntyre
When the gold is on the willow, and the purple...
May, by Rose Terry Cooke
There's a bluebird sits on the apple-tree bough...