New Classic Poems: Contemporary Verse that Rhymes : an AnthologyNeil Harding McAlister |
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Aaron Wilkinson Alfred Lord Tennyson Angela Burns Anne Maarit Ghan anthology Anya Corke Award Ballad beneath bird blue Bob Stampe born bright Canada Canadian Canadian Poetry cold Contemporary Formal dance dark dawn dear Dear Abby door dreams Eric Linden eyes face fading fate fear formal poetry free verse friends genre golden gone hand hawk heart hope inspired Internet Jonathan Day Keith Holyoak kiss knew land leave light lives look magazines mind moon morning Muktuk Nancy Callahan Neil Harding McAlister night on-line contest Ontario play poems poets published rain rhyming rocks seems shadows shines short stories sing Sister skies smile song Sonnet soul sparrow sweet T.S. Eliot tear tell Tesuniah things thought Toronto tree turned walk watched wife Wiley Clements William McGonagall William Topaz McGonagall wind words writing poetry
Popular passages
Page 25 - Learn to make the most of life, Lose no happy day Time will never bring thee back Chances swept away. Leave no tender word unsaid, Love while love shall last, ' The mill cannot grind With the water that is past.
Page 63 - Than the clamor of the sea. Hark to the voice of the wind ! Let us listen to what it is saying, Let us hearken to where it has been ; For it tells, in its terrible crying, The fearful sights it has seen. It clatters loud at the casements, Round the house it hurries on, And shrieks with...
Page 64 - ... the gloomy forest, Where the sledge was urged to its speed. Where the howling wolves were rushing On the track of the panting steed. Where the pool was black and lonely, It caught up a splash and a cry, — Only the bleak sky heard it, And the wind as it hurried by. Hark to the voice of the wind...
Page 121 - ... Vaster than empires and more slow. A hundred years should go to praise Thine eyes, and on thy forehead gaze; Two hundred to adore each breast, But thirty thousand to the rest; An age at least to every part, And the last age should show your heart. For, Lady, you deserve this state, Nor would I love at a lower rate. But at my back I always hear Time's winged chariot hurrying near; And yonder all before us lie Deserts of vast eternity. Thy beauty shall no more be found. Nor, in thy marble vault,...
Page 121 - Now therefore, while the youthful hue Sits on thy skin like morning dew, And while thy willing soul transpires At every pore with instant fires, Now let us sport us while we may, And now, like amorous birds of prey, Rather at once our time devour Than languish in his slow-chapt power.
Page 12 - A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step." I would say for the record, Congressman Young is taking that step today. To you, John, I would like to say, and you have practiced this as long as I have known you, the finest gift a man can give to his people, age and time is a gift of constructive and creative life. John, we have watched you many...
Page 10 - I want to make the question harder by concentrating our investigation on so-called "free verse." Frost, as everyone knows, said that writing free verse is like playing tennis without a net.
Page 54 - ere go the chimes, into the night of bells, bells, bells. Indigo shades of rhythmic rhymes, great depths of fright, arabesque tales. Melancholy, the works of Poe, great urgent need by candlelight expressed his thoughts, exposed his woe, for those who read his tales of night.
Page 146 - She was born in England and came to Canada at the age of four to the island of Montreal and watched it grow.
Page 63 - It has been on the desolate ocean, When the lightning struck the mast; It has heard the cry of the drowning, Who sank as it hurried past; The words of despair and anguish That were heard by no living ear; The gun that no signal answered, It brings them all to us here.