Lucy Maud Montgomery

I feel Very much Like taking Its unholy perpetrators By the hair Of their heads (If they have any hair) And dragging them around A few times, And then cutting them Into small, irregular pieces And burying them In the depths of the blue sea
Th...

There's a piping wind from a sunrise shore Blowing over a silver sea,
There's a joyous voice in the lapsing tide That calls enticingly;
The mist of dawn has taken flight To the dim horizon's bound,
And with wide sails set and eager ...

Surely the flowers of a hundred springs Are simply the souls of beautiful things
The poppies aflame with gold and red Were the kisses of lovers in days that are fled
The purple pansies with dew-drops pearled Were the rainbow dreams of a ...

The poet sang of a battle-field Where doughty deeds were done,
Where stout blows rang on helm and shield And a kingdom's fate was
With the scarlet thread of victory,
And honor from death's grim revelry Like a flame-red flower was wo...

A pussy-cat who was the household pet for seventeen years
Naught but a little cat, you say;
Yet we remember her,
A creature loving, loyal, kind,

I thank thee, friend, for the beautiful thought That in words well chosen thou gavest to me,
Deep in the life of my soul it has wrought With its own rare essence to ever imbue me,
To gleam like a star over devious ways,
To bloom lik...

There's a hush and stillness calm and deep,
For the waves have wooed all the winds to
In the shadow of headlands bold and steep;
But some gracious spirit has taken the

There is never a wind to sing o'er the sea On its dimpled bosom that holdeth in fee Wealth of silver and magicry;
And the harbor is like to an ebon cup With mother-o'-pearl to the lips lined up,
And brimmed with the wine of entranced del...

Athwart the harbor lingers yet The ashen gleam of breaking day, And where the guardian cliffs are set The noiseless shadows steal away; But all the winnowed eastern sky Is flushed with many a tender hue, And spears of light are smiting through The...

Oh, the charm of idle dreaming Where the dappled shadows dance,
All the leafy aisles are teeming With the lure of old romance
Down into the forest dipping, Deep and deeper as we go,
One might fancy dryads slipping Where the white-st...

A hundred generations have gone into its making, With all their love and tenderness, with all their dreams and tears;
Their vanished joy and pleasure, their pain and their heart-breaking, Have colored this rare blossom of the long-unfruitful ...

If Mary had
When she held her Babe's hands in her own­Little hands that were tender and white as a rose,
All dented with dimples from finger to wrist,
Such as mothers have kissed­That one day they must feel the fierce