Nancibel.

The ghost of a wind came over the hill,
While day for a moment forgot to die,
And stirred the sheaves
Of the millet leaves,
As Nancibel went by.

Out of the lands of Long Ago,
Into the land of By and By,
Faded the gleam
Of a journeying dream,
As Nancibel went by.

Bliss Carman

Bliss Carman was a Canadian poet, born in Fredericton, New Brunswick. He is best known for his nature poems and lyrical verse. Carman was a leading figure in the Confederation period of Canadian literature and is often remembered for his collections such as 'Low Tide on Grand Pré' and 'Songs of the Sea Children'. His work reflects a deep romanticism and connection to the natural world. Throughout his career, he collaborated with several other poets, including Charles G.D. Roberts and Archibald Lampman.

Bliss Carman

Earth's Lyric.

Bliss Carman, Simple Poetry

A Waif.

Bliss Carman, Simple Poetry

The Lodger

Bliss Carman, Simple Poetry

The Sea Gypsy.

Bliss Carman, 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.

Nancy Walsh

    It is not on her gown
    She fears to tread;
    It is her hair
    Which tumbles down
    And strays
    About her ways
    That she must care.

    And she lives nigh this place:
    The dead would rise
    If they could see her face;
    The dead would rise
    Only to hear her sing:
    But death is blind, and gives not ear nor eye
    To anything.

    We would leave behind
    Both wife and child,
    And house and home;
    And wander blind,
    And wander thus,
    And ever roam,
    If she would come to us
    In Erris.

    Softly she said to me,
    Be patient till the night comes,
    And I will go with thee.

James Stephens

The Nancy's Pride

On the long slow heave of a lazy sea,
To the flap of an idle sail,
The Nancy's Pride went out on the tide;
And the skipper stood by the rail.

All down, all down by the sleepy town,
With the hollyhocks a-row
In the little poppy gardens,
The sea had her in tow.

They let her slip by the breathing rip,
Where the bell is never still,
And over the sounding harbor bar,
And under the harbor hill.

She melted into the dreaming noon,
Out of the drowsy land,
In sight of a flag of goldy hair,
To the kiss of a girlish hand.

For the lass who hailed the lad who sailed,
Was--who but his April bride?
And of all the fleet of Grand Latite,
Her pride was the Nancy's Pride.

So the little vessel faded down
With her creaking boom...

Bliss Carman

Legends Of Lost Haven

There are legends of Lost Haven,
Come, I know not whence, to me,
When the wind is in the clover,
When the sun is on the sea.

There are rumors in the pine-tops,
There are whispers in the grass;
And the flocking crows at nightfall
Bring home hints of things that pass

Out upon the broad dike yonder,
All day long beneath the sun,
Where the tall ships cloud and settle
Down the sea-curve, one by one.

And the crickets in fine chorus--
Every slim and tiny reed--
Strive to chord the broken rhythmus
Of the world, and half succeed.

There are myriad traditions
Treasured by the talking rain;
And with memories the moonlight
Walks the cold and silent plain.

Where the river tells his hill-tales
To the lone complaining bar...

Bliss Carman

Nocturne: In Anjou.

I dreamed of Sappho on a summer night.
Her nightingales were singing in the trees
Beside the castled river; and the wind
Fell like a woman's fingers on my cheek.
And then I slept and dreamed and marked no change;
The night went on with me into my dream.
This only I remember, that I cried:
"O Sappho! ere I leave this paradise,
Sing me one song of those lost books of yours
For which we poets still go sorrowing;
That when I meet my fellows on the earth
I may rejoice them more than many pearls;"
And she, the sweetly smiling, answered me,
As one who dreams, "I have forgotten them."

Bliss Carman

A Hill Song.

Hills where once my love and I
Let the hours go laughing by!
All your woods and dales are sad,--
You have lost your Oread.
Falling leaves! Silent woodlands!
Half your loveliness is fled.
Golden-rod, wither now!
Winter winds, come hither now!
All the summer joy is dead.

There's a sense of something gone
In the grass I linger on.
There's an under-voice that grieves
In the rustling of the leaves.
Pine-clad peaks! Rushing waters!
Glens where we were once so glad!
There's a light passed from you,
There's a joy outcast from you,--
You have lost your Oread.

Bliss Carman

At The Granite Gate

There paused to shut the door
A fellow called the Wind.
With mystery before,
And reticence behind,

A portal waits me too
In the glad house of spring,
One day I shall pass through
And leave you wondering.

It lies beyond the marge
Of evening or of prime,
Silent and dim and large,
The gateway of all time.

There troop by night and day
My brothers of the field;
And I shall know the way
Their woodsongs have revealed.

The dusk will hold some trace
Of all my radiant crew
Who vanished to that place,
Ephemeral as dew.

Into the twilight dun,
Blue moth and dragon-fly
Adventuring alone,--
Shall be more brave than I?

There innocents shall bloom
And the white cherry tree,
With birch and wil...

Bliss Carman