August.

    God in His own right hand doth take each day -
    Each sun-filled day - each rare and radiant night,
    And drop it softly on the earth and say:
    "Touch earth with heaven's own beauty and delight."

Jean Blewett

Jean Blewett was a Canadian author, journalist, and poet. Born in Scotia, Ontario, she became well-known for her poetry and was awarded the part of lyrical poet at the World’s Fair in Chicago, 1893. Her notable works were often published in literary magazines. Besides poetry, Blewett also wrote stories and worked as a journalist, gaining considerable respect in both fields. She passed away in Chatham, Ontario, in 1934. Her legacy remains a significant part of Canadian literary history.

Jean Blewett

To Lillian Massey Treble

Jean Blewett, Simple Poetry

St. Andrew's Day - A Toast.

Jean Blewett, Simple Poetry

As Good As A Girl.

Jean Blewett, Simple Poetry

English

Suggested Poems

Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.

April.

    God's garden is this dim old wood,
    And hidden in its bosom
    The bursting bud, the feathery leaf
    And soft, sweet smelling blossom.

    Ho! May is fair, and glorious June,
        In rose leaves doth enfold her;
    Their bloom is richer than my own,
        But mine is sweeter, bolder.

    God's garden is this dim old wood,
    And I, the pretty vagrant,
    I am the gardener He sends
    To make it fair and fragrant.

Jean Blewett

Thou Art, O God.

(Air.--Unknown.)^[1]


        "The day is thine, the night is also thine: thou hast prepared the light and the sun.

        "Thou hast set all the borders of the earth: thou hast made summer and winter."
        --Psalm lxxiv. 16, 17.


Thou art, O God, the life and light
    Of all this wondrous world we see;
Its glow by day, its smile by night,
    Are but reflections caught from Thee.
Where'er we turn, thy glories shine,
    And all things fair and bright are Thine!

When Day, with farewell beam, delays
    Among the opening clouds of Even,
And we can almost think we gaze
    Thro' golden vistas into Heaven--
Those hues, that make the Sun's decline
So soft, so radiant, LORD! are Thine.

When Night, with ...

Thomas Moore

O Radiance Of Life's Morning.

    O Radiance of life's morning! O gold without alloy!
    O love that lives through all the years! O full, O perfect joy!

    The hills of earth touch heaven, the heaven of blue and gold,
    And angel voices swell the song of love and peace untold!

        O radiance of life's morning!
        The dew within the rose,
        The fragrance fresh from Eden
        That freights each breeze that blows!

    Dear Christ, the wine of Cana pour out in rich supply,
    These hearts keep young with gladness while all the years go by!

        O radiance of life's morning!
        O gold without alloy!
        O love that lives through all the years,
        O full, O perfect joy!

Jean Blewett

August.

    A day of torpor in the sullen heat
        Of Summer's passion: In the sluggish stream
    The panting cattle lave their lazy feet,
        With drowsy eyes, and dream.

    Long since the winds have died, and in the sky
        There lives no cloud to hint of Nature's grief;
    The sun glares ever like an evil eye,
        And withers flower and leaf.

    Upon the gleaming harvest-field remote
        The thresher lies deserted, like some old
    Dismantled galleon that hangs afloat
        Upon a sea of gold.

    The yearning cry of some bewildered bird
        Above an empty nest, and truant boys
    Along the river's shady margin heard -
        A harmony of noise -

    A melody of wrangling voices blent
        With liquid...

James Whitcomb Riley

To Avis Keene

On receiving a basket of sea-mosses.


Thanks for thy gift
Of ocean flowers,
Born where the golden drift
Of the slant sunshine falls
Down the green, tremulous walls
Of water, to the cool, still coral bowers,
Where, under rainbows of perpetual showers,
God's gardens of the deep
His patient angels keep;
Gladdening the dim, strange solitude
With fairest forms and hues, and thus
Forever teaching us
The lesson which the many-colored skies,
The flowers, and leaves, and painted butterflies,
The deer's branched antlers, the gay bird that flings
The tropic sunshine from its golden wings,
The brightness of the human countenance,
Its play of smiles, the magic of a glance,
Forevermore repeat,
In varied tones and sweet,
That beauty...

John Greenleaf Whittier

Devotional Incitements

"Not to the earth confined,
Ascend to heaven."


Where will they stop, those breathing Powers,
The Spirits of the new-born flowers?
They wander with the breeze, they wind
Where'er the streams a passage find;
Up from their native ground they rise
In mute aerial harmonies;
From humble violet, modest thyme,
Exhaled, the essential odours climb,
As if no space below the sky
Their subtle flight could satisfy:
Heaven will not tax our thoughts with pride
If like ambition be 'their' guide.

Roused by this kindliest of May-showers,
The spirit-quickener of the flowers,
That with moist virtue softly cleaves
The buds, and freshens the young leaves,
The birds pour forth their souls in notes
Of rapture from a thousand throats
Here checked b...

William Wordsworth