Miracles.

    Love met a worldling on the way,
    And softly crept into his breast.
    Straight Self and Greed refused to stay
    Where Love had dared to make his nest.

    Love met a mourner on the road,
    And said: "I'll bear thee company."
    Full soon the mourner lost his load
    Of grief, and care, and misery.

    Into a grim and cheerless home
    Love forced his way through barriers tall;
    Fled wretchedness, and chill, and gloom -
    The golden sunshine flooded all.

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

A Bit O' Shamrock.

Jean Blewett, Simple Poetry

The Firstborn.

Jean Blewett, Simple Poetry

Her Little Way.

Jean Blewett, Simple Poetry

The Orchard.

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.

The Parting.

    One summer's morning I heard a lark
    Singing to heaven, a sweet-throated bird;
    One winter's night I was glad in the dark
    Because of the wondrous song I had heard.

    The joy of life, I have heard you say,
    Is my love, my laughter, my smiles and tears;
    When I have gone on the long, strange way,
    Let these stay with you through all the years -

    These be the lark's song. What is love worth
    That cannot crowd, in the time that's given
    To two like us on this gray old earth,
    Such bliss as will last till we reach heaven?

    Dear one, think oft of the full, glad years,
    And, thinking of them, forget to weep.
    Whisper: "Remembrance holds no tears!"
    And kiss my mouth when I fall on sleep.

Jean Blewett

Despair.

    We catch a glimpse of it, gaunt and gray,
    When the golden sunbeams are all abroad;
    We sober a moment, then softly say:
    The world still lies in the hand of God.

    We watch it stealthily creeping o'er
    The threshold leading to somebody's soul;
    A shadow, we cry, it cannot be more
    When faith is one's portion and Heaven one's goal.

    A ghost that comes stealing its way along,
    Affrighting the weak with its gruesome air,
    But who that is young and glad and strong
    Fears for a moment to meet Despair?

    To this heart of ours we have thought so bold
    All uninvited it comes one day -
    Lo! faith grows wan, and love grows cold,
    And the heaven of our dreams lies far away.

Jean Blewett

The Way To Dreamland

With an angel flower-laden, every day a dimpled maiden
    Sails away from off my bosom on a radiant sea of bliss;
I can see her drifting, drifting, hear the snowy wings uplifting
    As he woos her into Dreamland with a kiss.

Blissful hour, my pretty sleeper, guarded by an angel keeper,
    List'ning to the words he brings thee from a fairer world than this;
Sweet! thy heart he is beguiling, I can tell it by thy smiling,
    As he woos thee into Dreamland with a kiss.

Could there come to weary mortals such a glimpse through golden portals,
Would we not drift on forever toward the longed-for land of peace, jean    Would we not leave joys and sorrows,
    Glad to-days and sad to-morrows,
For the sound of white wings lifting, and the kiss?

Jean Blewett

Love.

Who veileth love should first have vanquished fate.
    She folded up the dream in her deep heart,
    Her fair full lips were silent on that smart,
Thick fringèd eyes did on the grasses wait.
What good? one eloquent blush, but one, and straight
    The meaning of a life was known; for art
    Is often foiled in playing nature's part,
And time holds nothing long inviolate.
Earth's buried seed springs up - slowly, or fast:
The ring came home, that one in ages past
    Flung to the keeping of unfathomed seas:
    And golden apples on the mystic trees
Were sought and found, and borne away at last,
    Though watched of the divine Hesperides.

Jean Ingelow

To-Day You Understand.

    You lifted eyes pain-filled to me,
    Sad, questioning eyes that did demand
    Why I should thrust back, childishly,
    The friendship warm you offered me -
    Ah, sweet, to-day you understand!

    'Twas that my heart beat rapturously
    At word of thine, at touch of hand,
    At tender glance vouchsafed to me
    The while I knew it must not be -
    Ah, sweet, to-day you understand!

    There's neither pain nor mystery
    In that far-off and fragrant land
    To which you journeyed fearlessly;
    By gates of pearl and jasper sea -
    Ah, sweet, to-day you understand!

Jean Blewett

Married Lovers.

Come away, the clouds are high,
Put the flashing needles by.
Many days are not to spare,
Or to waste, my fairest fair!
All is ready. Come to-day,
For the nightingale her lay,
When she findeth that the whole
Of her love, and all her soul,
Cannot forth of her sweet throat,
Sobs the while she draws her breath,
And the bravery of her note
In a few days altereth.

Come, ere she despond, and see
In a silent ecstasy
Chestnuts heave for hours and hours
All the glory of their flowers
To the melting blue above,
That broods over them like love.
Leave the garden walls, where blow
Apple-blossoms pink, and low
Ordered beds of tulips fine.
Seek the blossoms made divine
With a scent that is their soul.
These are soulless. Bring the whit...

Jean Ingelow