Into a drowsy tune
Transmute the afternoon.

So, Friend, with ears and eyes
Which shy divinities

Have opened with their kiss,
We need no balm but this,--

A little space for dreams
On care-unsullied streams,--

'Mid task and toil, a space
To dream on Nature's face!



AN ODE FOR THE CANADIAN CONFEDERACY.


Awake, my country, the hour is great with change!
Under this gloom which yet obscures the land,
From ice-blue strait and stern Laurentian range
To where giant peaks our western bounds command,
A deep voice stirs, vibrating in men's ears
As if their own hearts throbbed that thunder forth,
A sound wherein who hearkens wisely hears
The voice of the desire of this strong North,--
This North whose heart of fire