Edwardian and Georgian Canadian Poets
21st Feb 2014Posted in: Edwardian and Georgian Canadian Poets 0
Sea Mist

Sea Mist
And Other Poems
Marion Isabel Angus
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Marion Isabel Angus
Dec. 16, 1926

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whose unfailing sympathy and
constant encouragement have
greatly assisted me in my literary
 endeavours. [unnumbered page]

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Sea Mist


Ships on the Horizon






The Kiss of Love


A Prayer


Doubt Not My Love


Life and Death










The Lessons






Three Maidens


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I gaze upon the mystic haze
That shrouds the city fair;
That softens the sharp silhouettes
Of mountain peaks and buildings bare—
Their outlines crude against the sky—
To masses, shadowy of mould, 
That loom fantastic through the morn
Like fairy castle walls of old
Wrapt in the gauzy haze of time.
A moment thus:— and, through the mist, 
A vivid ray of light appears—
A wondrous shaft of fire, I wist, 
Like that which bore the Holy Grail, 
Dissolves anon the greyish gloom
That hovers o’er the silent town—
As the Sun-God leaps from his tomb. [page 7]


Dim ships on the horizon grey,
     Swift passing from my sight,
You bear towards the Orient
     Through portals of the night

Oh, richly-laden argosies,
     You carry wealth untold—
British Columbia’s treasures,
     Wrested from forests old;

Our merchandise for Eastern lands, 
     Products of mines and streams,--
Your journey far makes true, at last,
     Our father’s golden dreams.

Dim ships on the horizon grey,
     Swift passing from my sight, 
May God in His dear compassion
     Guide thee o’er the ocean’s might. [page 8]


Lo! a sweet, fair maiden
Has come within our ken.
She gives Earth the jewel 
That brings us joy and hope,
Banishing thoughts cruel,
‘Gainst which we cannot cope.
For green verdures follow
In her wake. Flowers will glow
To greet the birds so gay
That come from southern climes
To cheer our spirits grey. 
‘Tis the merry, verdant spring,
Who inspires lovers sad, 
And makes our sick hearts glad. [page 9]


The little leaves come dancing down, 
Dancing down, prancing down. 
The little leaves are golden brown, 
Golden brown, ruddy brown.

The Autumn sky is silver grey,
Silver grey, cream and grey. 
The Autumn sky makes dull display,
Dull display, soft display.

The mountains dim are misty blue,
Misty blue, greyey blue,
The mountains dim are snow-capped, too,
Snow-capped, too, rose-kist, too.

Oh, Autumn days are full of fun,
Full of fun, joyous fun, 
The Autumn days please anyone,
Anyone, everyone. [page 10]


I never knew such ecstasy
     Could be, until your lips sought mine,
In one long, ling’ring draught of love.
     You woke me with a kiss divine.

For time was not: the sea of space
     And all eternity was merged
In breathless trance of love, while waves
     Of abnegation round me surged.

I sought to drown my will in yours.
     Your least wish was a sacred law
That I made in haste to execute,
     Lest in me you should see a flaw.

Kiss that fulfilled my destiny,
     And my place in the plan of life
Revealed, likewise, my womanhood 
     And its attendant pain so rife.

Oh, kiss that made me wholly yours,
     In summer fair and winter chill, 
On earth and Heav’n, through Life or Death, 
     I yield myself to your sweet will. [page 11]


Be all men to me, you, I beg,
     Lest I, to ease the pain
Of my mad, vagrant woman-heart,
     Let my thoughts stray again. 

Be all men to me, Love, till death,
     Lest I do emulate
The droning bees and flit afar
     From love to love elate,

To glean the proffered sweetness
     So temptingly displayed
Along the primrose paths of life
     Where I have ever played.

Be all me to me, lest, too late,
     You understand this truth
That such as I are only held
     Quiescent by Love’s ruth.

Be all men to me, if you find
     You are inclined to take
My love for granted, lest you learn 
     The meaning of heart-ache. [page 12]


Doubt not my love, although
     At times I seem wrapt deep in thought
And thee ignore. Believe
     My work for thee alone is wrought. 

Doubt not my love because
     I have no gift for loving speech
Or tender word. Let my 
     Life prove my love I thee beseech. 

Doubt not my love for thoughts
     Of mine revolve around thee, dear,
Like our moon ’round this earth,
     Nor change their path from year to year.

Doubt not my love for thee. 
     Doubt first the mere existences
Of sun and moon and stars, 
     And Nature’s omnipotences. [page 13]

Doubt not my love, dear heart.
     Doubt rather the immensity
Of boundless, beryl seas.
     Doubt first, love, all eternity.

Doubt not my love for I
     Upon my heart did thee enthrone,
To exclusion of self
     “I love thee, dear, and thee alone.”

In original I had
“Doubt rather that last doubt of all,
Of sad upon his throne,”
Which seems better to me, although disapproved by a critic
M. I. A. [page 14]


I sail the unknown barque called Life.
     No helsman steers that I perceive,
Yet, still, I hold my course serene
     And count the blessings I receive.

I sail to th’unknown port called Death.
     The Pilot waits to guide me there
Into a harbor, sheltered, safe,
     Adjoining Heaven bright and fair. [page 15] 


Song of the humming bees, 
     BUZZ — BUZZ — BUZZ!
Drifts o’er the vagrant breeze,
     BUZZ — BUZZ — BUZZ!

Song of the singing birds,
list to their soft love-words,

Song of the moaning wind,
     OO — OO — OO!
Rouses my slumbr’ing mind,
     OO — OO — OO!

Song of the western sea,
     BOOM — BOOM — BOOM!
Sail back, oh love, to me,
     BOOM — BOOM — BOOM!

Song of my singing heart,
Says ne’er again we’ll part,
     THROB, HEART, THROB! [page 16]


Around me flow the babbling tongues
     Of shallow minds, intent on little things,
That yet do make the sum of life
     For them. Such things I’d flee had I but wings.

Their laughter makes me more content.
     Relentlessly it forces me to see
Amid that thoughtless throng I stand
     Alone. Loneliness doth not frighten me. [page 17]


Snow, and the wild winds moaning
     Down from the Pole:
Noise from the timbers groaning,
     Stern Winter’s toll;

Cold, and the fierce wolves howling
     Over the waste:
Night, and the white bears growling
     On ice-floes chaste;

Tired, and my thoughts go drifting
     Southward to thee,
Hoping, till clouds are lifting
     You’ll pray for me. [page 18] 


‘Tis not the goal that counts, my lad;
     ‘Tis not the treasure rare;
The thing that counts is will to do,
     And soul that all will dare.

‘Tis not the plaudits of the land;
     ‘Tis not the wreath of fame:
It is the cheery smile that counts
     And power to play the game.

You’ll seldom find that happiness
     Comes to those who achieve.
Stagnation comes, alas! and they
     No more their dreams can weave.

So be not downcast if life deal
     You a wholesome buffet.
Just deeply breathe: lift high your head,
     And get out and rough it. [page 19] 


Love, let us boldly start to-day,
     To take Life by the hand,
And wander by the sunlit paths
     That strew the smiling land.

Love, let us learn to smile in glee
     At dire Misfortune’s frown; 
And always see that ev’ry cloud
     Is sent by Heaven down,

To strengthen, sweet, our joy and trust
     In one another’s faith,
And in the power we hold, dear love;
     To banish Sorrow’s wraith.

For love is all that counts, Beloved,
     Yea, more than Life itself.
‘Tis more than Friendship’s tepid clasp:
     ‘Tis more than sordid Pelf. [page 20] 


Dawn, and the breath of pines
     Comes o’er the sea, 
Taking my memory
     Back, Love to thee.

Noon, and the sun’s fierce kiss
     Fires heart and brain, 
Thinking you’re near to me— 
     Dreaming again.

Eve, and the shadows bring 
     Sad thoughts to me,
Telling for years I must
     Be far from thee.

Night, and the stars shine calm
     In Heaven high,
Gives rest to me. I sleep
     Without a sigh. [page 21]


Life bore you far from me, 
     Star of my sea!
Ah, that such pain should be
     Given to me!

Life bore you far from me,
     Dawn of my day!
Words could not tell my grief,
     You went away.

Life bore you far from me,
     Man o’ my dreams!
My lone lips only were 
     Kissed by moonbeams.

Death gave you back to me, 
     Soul of my soul!
Hasten, oh day, when I
     Shall pay Death’s toll. [page 22] 


The high-born ladye sat in her bower,
     Tra-la-la-la, tra-la-la-le.
The high-born ladye sat in her bower,
In lily-white hand she held a flower, 
Sent by her lover from the Queen’s bower,
Where he needs must while many an hour.

The high-born ladye she sang a song,
     Tra-la-la-la, tra-la-la-le.
The high-born ladye she sang a song,
“Ah, sweet love, on thy dear gift I long
Did press these lips that to thee belong,
Prithee dost thy love for me hold strong?”

The maiden stood by the rippling brook, 
     Tra-la-la-la, tra-la-la-le.
The maiden stood by the rippling brook,
Where the willows formed a shady nook,
As their green leaves in the sunlight shook,
She blushed ‘neath her lover’s ardent look.

The maiden with the downcast eyes did say, 
     Tra-la-la-la, tra-la-la-le.
The maiden with the downcast eyes did say,
“My darling, when thou art far away, 
My earnest prayers will arise each day
That thou wilt forget me not, I’ll pray.”

The flapper pert her peach stockings rolled,
     Tra-la-la-la, tra-la-la-le.
The flapper pert her peach stockings rolled, 
Her lipstick applied with touch so bold;
Then to her sheik some home truths she told,
As he seized her in a strangle hold.

The flapper pert quite saucily said,
     Tra-la-la-la, tra-la-la-le.
The flapper pert quite saucily said,
“I say, old thing, your feet are like lead,
Who told you, pray, you could dance bonehead?
You gimme a pain. Go, join the dead.”

My tale is told in a fit of glee,
     Tra-la-la-la, tra-la-la-le.
The “line” of the miads of eras three
You see in these words spoken so free. 
But, who shall be judge—well, no, not me—
Who was wisest of the damsels three? [page 23] 
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