Explore "A Canadian Calendar: XII Lyrics" by Francis Sherman on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
High above the trees, swinging in across the hills, / There's a wide cloud, ominous and slow; / And the wind that rushes over sends the little stars to cover / And the wavering shadows fade along the snow. / Surely on my window (Hark the tumult of the night!) / That's a first, fitful drop of scanty rain; / And the hillside wakes and quivers with the strength of newborn / rivers / Come to make our Northland glad and free again.
O remember how the snow fell the long winter through! / Was it yesterday I tied your snowshoes on? / All my soul grew wild with yearning for the sight of you / returning / But I waited all those hours that you were gone, / For I watched you from our window through the blurring flakes / that fell / Till you gained the quiet wood, and then I knew / (When our pathways lay together how we revelled in such / weather!) / That the ancient things I loved would comfort you.