Edwardian and Georgian Canadian Poets
4th Aug 2014Posted in: Edwardian and Georgian Canadian Poets 0
To You

[front cover]

Come stand on top of the world with me!
Come reach into Infinity!
Together pluck a new-blown thought, 
Fresh from the garden of the God!

Poems by
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You always may be That you really are.
Waste not time living in the past afar!
The road you came by, is the path wherein
Still pressing forward you will surely win
The goal you straightly sought since time began. 


Love is like the sun, my dear, 
    With its teeming rays
Showering benefits on earth
    In unnumbered ways.

Love is rhythmic heart-beat
    Of the perfect Whole:
Love is mainspring at the core
    Of each human soul.    

Love is super-conscious
    When you open wide
All your being to the force
    Of its wondrous tide. 

At the centre of each heart
    Is the sacred shrine
Where Cosmic Love is as the sun, 
    So shine, shine, shine!

*See 1st Corinthians, 13th chapter. [unnumbered page]



Selfish love is like the moon
    With its changing arc, 
It is waxing, full or waning,
    All too soon it’s dark. 

Selfish love is like the moon
    With its borrowed light, 
Always barg’ning for a price, 
    Never gives a mite;

Always seeking for itself
    Something new and kind, 
Turns cold back on the wreck
    That it leaves behind. 

Of the form is selfish love, 
    Desire of instincts rife, 
It is but blind urge to live, 
    Cosmic Love is Life!


From crowding crimes into legalities, 
From ending ethics in moralities
And foisting fiction for realities, 
Oh from our sham respectabilities
Deliver us, good Lord! [unnumbered page]


Cosmic Love is the seed and root, 
The trunk, the branches and the fruit, 
Of the tree of life which had its birth
When the Creator formed the earth;
Melody of the heart of God, 
Sung by grasses of the sod;
Fragrance of the heavenly air
Flung by flowerets everywhere;
Joyous gift of the tree in fruit;
Care of offspring by the brute;
Beauty of the rainbow curve;
Christly love of all who serve.
Cosmic Love in man must be
Desire to God in all things see;
Thoughts of God, in men, and things;
Love of God, which through earth rings!



Dear woman! comrade, friend of his and wife, 
His dearest, holiest love, and inspiration, 
Companion beautiful, of influence rare, 
Your silence — deep and thrilled with the vibration
Of heaven’s archetypal harp—
Your silence was the “sea of glass” which mirrored
The symphonies he caught and set to words
That send love-bells aringing down the years
To harmonize and lift the hearts of men
Until the earth re-echoes with the song You learned of God!
Accept my love and humble admiration, 
Dear woman, heaven-sent friend! [unnumbered page]


So long as there is silence you are mine, 
My very own, life of my heart and soul.
But speak one word, and upspring time and space,
Diversity and all that separates. 
Still, I must speak, and hear you answer me, 
Must find, in you, the echo of my soul!
Thus does the mystery repeat itself, 
How the Elohim “spoke and it was done”—
How the Elohim spoke and forth trooped we
In many forms, yet of one Life, one Love:
And in the sacred silence all are one, 
Yet ever must I seek myself in each.



Would’st soar above doubt’s clouds — and live?
    Thoughts’ silken sails serenely set!
Desire the motive power doth give
    Wherever Life and Love are met.

When Life and Love in union meet, 
    And hand-in-hand the journey run, 
The changing form is beneath our feet,
    We’re carried onward to the sun.

We are one with the supernal skill
    Which fashions every form at will:
We come into our sacred dower, 
    Giving Life to Love — we are one with Power! [unnumbered page]



The light reveals in all this world, 
Two kinds of men,—givers and takers;
Those who know or know not Truth, 
In every line, helpers and seekers.

In this way is a ladder built
From earth to heaven, upon each rung
Of which stand those, who reaching up
May take, but looking back must give. 

For when one takes and fails to give,
His hands being full of unused things, 
He is not free to take the gift
Which Life is holding out to him.

And there are those who seek nothing
For self, but strive to climb that they
May find a greater good, to give
The weary pilgrims, on the way.

To be a brother to all men!
To be a living fount of Love!
To searching eyes to be a Light!
To earth—ambassador of God! [unnumbered page]



There is a man as near a god, 
As mortal eye may well behold.
Came one and said: “He hath this fault.”
Ah, well! But then, he loveth much, 
And who am I to judge one “touch
Of earth,” which is our common lot!
Who serves his fellows, day by day, 
Is climbing up the heavenly way.



The poet lady dreamed by day
Whether at work, or whether at play,
She dreamed by night of sighted goal, 
One great longing filled her soul,—

To give to the world a perfect love.
How could she write it into a book, 
When the wonder way by Love supplied
Is to be the mother of wanted child!

To joyously go to the natal-gate
Where wanted children stand,—and wait, 
For parents willing, eager, true, 
To open the gate and bring them through. 

For great ones only come to earth
Through happy, peaceful, welcome, birth. 
The angel who came to her of old
Still comes to woman and cries: Behold! [unnumbered page]



Oh I love the hollyhock, I love the sunflower, 
    The stately lily, and the fragrant rose, 
And I am thankful that they all are different, 
    In loveliness and sweetness each flower grows.


Oh a spider’s web is a palace to a spider, 
    But it is not a palace to a king. 
When everyone has learned to mind his business
    Great happiness will around this planet ring. 

I love the sunshine and I love the moonlight, 
    The twinkling Sirius and our Venus bright, 
And I am also thankful for the darkness
    For there we find the soul’s unfading light. 

We find that everyone on earth is different, 
Each has his place in life’s tremendous plan. 
    To bring to each and all a full completeness
Each one must be himself—because he can. [unnumbered page]



Fairy fancies flitting
    Through the dear day-dreams
Or their sweet songs singing
    In the pale moonbeams,

They’ve enchanted feathers
    In the willing wings, 
That for you are weaving
    All the future things. 

See the many colours,
    Lavender, and blue, 
Green, and rose, and golden, 
    Made by thoughts of you!

Faith doth guide the pinions
    Of this fairy band:
They are love’s own minions
    Don’t you understand!

And they bring you all things, 
    Each one brings his kind, 
Grown from seeds you planted
    Through thought in your mind. 

Fairy fancies flitting
    Through the dear day-dreams,
Or their sweet songs singing
    In the pale moonbeams! [unnumbered page]



Our lives are full of dreams so dear, 
But troubled dreams of things we fear
Are weeds which sometimes choke the wheat, 
And a mixed harvest oft we reap. 

The time and place to stop the weeds
Is when they still are tiny seeds, 
Nor plant them in the fertile mind
To bring forth fruit after their kind.

The tombs of form no longer bind
When selfishness is left behind:
We recognize the one Great Cause, 
And rhythmic run with nature’s laws. 

When we no longer cling to things, 
But joyous use them, we have wings
That carry us to all we need, 
As ever onward fast we speed. 

As we speed onward in swift change
Which gives our lives a larger range
Nor cling to forms, we find they lend
Themselves unto the destined end. 

Environment and human form
With change of thought are quite newborn:
Our waking dreams fast crystallize, 
Enchanted castles from the skies. [unnumbered page]



“All we like sheep have gone astray,”
If not in the same in some other way. 
Have you a past which is so far past, 
It has slipped clean out of your mind at last?
Well, where have you been in a million years?
Pray, what of your sins, your tears and fears?
And are you now so infallibly great
That you’ll never make another mistake?
Then give to all others the same fair lift, 
To get up, go on, succeed, and drift
Away from the past, that the world gives you, 
Though perhaps it wouldn’t—if it but knew!



Man is happy when he gathers 
Round himself the things that please, 
They of him are self-extension, 
Through them he finds due expression
Of a larger life he feels. 
Comes then painful evolution, 
Comes to forms disintegration, 
And dear objects of affection
From his side are torn away. 
In bewilderment and sorrow:
“We must meet in some to-morrow!”
Then awakened spirit whispers:
“Though hearts perish, love endures!” [unnumbered page]



I stood at the gate of Olympian heights
    And watched the gods awhile, 
Till one, espying me, swiftly came
    And welcoming with a smile, 
He hastened to open the gate that I 
    Might enter the land of charms, 
But I flew as an arrow, swift and straight, 
    Back to your waiting arms. 

Back to the one who is my beloved, 
    Since ever we came from Eden, 
Whose heart is my home and palace fair, 
    For love is magic leaven. 
We’ve crossed deep seas, and climbed high hills, 
    We’ve trodden the desert sand:
We’ve known our heaven, and sometimes hell, 
    But always, hand in hand. 

Bereft of you in high estate, 
    Disconsolate I roam. 
In lowly cabin and your mate, 
    How happy is our home!
Let the gods shine on in their high abode—
    Not higher than heart that is true—
It is kingdom splendid, and paradise, 
    Wherever I am—with you! [unnumbered page]



Dear hear of mine, immortal love,
If you beside me now were sitting,
We soon would clothe this fairy elf
Within a garment, most befitting.
We’d curl his hair, and “beau” his sash,
And tie his little wingèd shoes.
Glowing, he came in vibrant hush, 
Offspring of Venus and the Muse. 

I find the little natal-gown
Of the dear child, though fair indeed, 
Doth not befit his princeling crown,
And seek to fashion christ’ning-robe,
From neck to hem of finer stuff
Than e’en quaint heirloom’s yellowed cloth. 
(The things of yesterday are good
To teach us how to wiser build.)

Come butterflies, come birds, and flowers, 
Come, live in me, your magic hours!
Oh, waves, and winds, ye stars, and sun,
Teach me to clothe this dear live Poem, 
In words that rival rainbow-arc, 
With perfect rhythm of Nature’s harp!
Mother of Beauty, heart of Love, 
Thy child this inspiration give! [unnumbered page]



We’re debtor, yes, to many another, 
But most of all, to plighted lover, 
Not for the few brief, scattered hours
Of bliss, when all the world is ours, 
But for the hurt and aching heart, 
With roots and tendrils torn apart;
The numbness, when our all is gone, 
Thrown back upon ourself alone;
The blindness, when of life our light
Has sudden turned to darkest night.

Then while we weep, alone in space;
And cry to God, in far-off place;
And beg Him to give back again
The love that will annul the pain;
Nor force upon us only life,
When it is full of woe and strife;
There comes at last a sense of light,
A consciousness of might, and right, 
A voice which says: A god are you, 
One with the beautiful, and true, 
With wisdom, justice, power and peace, 
And you must live for all the race!
For life is good, and life is love, 
God dwells not more in heaven above, 
Than in the heart of every heir
Of life, know then, that life is fair!
Whatever thing you wish to see
Upon this earth, strive that to be!
Heaven’s store of good is yours to give, 
And God is That which you must live!

At last the quest of life is over. 
You’ve found within—the Eternal Lover! [unnumbered page]



Beloved, some day I’ll dip this quill
    Deep in the magic well of love, 
And write for you the thoughts that thrill,
    And in my inmost being move.

Some day, I’ll take this mystic lyre
    Which mellows with perennial youth, 
And when your faith doth most inspire, 
    Strike from it living notes of Truth.

Some day, I’ll touch this splendid sphere
    Of love, which brighter burns with age, 
To take from it some sparks of fire, 
    And scatter them across the page. 

There shall they glow in rhythmic art, 
    Giving our love a sacred fame, 
Till, kindling many another heart, 
    They set the whole wide world aflame.



Our splendid sons, in your glorious youth, 
    You’ve rendered your race service sublime;
You’ve kindled a clear white light on earth
    And victory-bells triumphant chime. 
The victory-chimes and love-bells thrill
    The universe, with their joyous song;
For selfless love is the Father’s will, 
    By Christly action each son is known. [unnumbered page] 



You would walk with me by the winding way
    That leads up to my mountain-top?
Well, ’tis my own little private path, 
    Up sheer cliff and climbing slope. 

The little path runs through my heart, 
    The boulders are the gifts of love—
Great stones rolled back from sepulchres, 
    Where long lay buried faith and hope—

The gifts of dear ones who love themselves, 
    The stones they give when they promise bread. 
The tomb is the price that we pay for each—
    A sepulchre when his love is dead!

If your love is strong enough to rise
    The stone has been polished smooth by tears, 
Then set each one atop the last
    And after while you have a stairs.

This is how the path is built, 
    The climbing way, its steps hewn out
Of the solid rock by pain and grief, 
    In darkness, fear, despair, and doubt. 

Oh, no! not any higher, please!
    I would not climb another step!
I’ve said the same as I stood on each:
    Give me a grave, and let me forget! [unnumbered page]



The barriers are very great, 
    With which we hedge ourselves about, 
But after while, a kindly Fate
    Opened the door, and with a shout
Of joy, brought in the gracious friend, 
    The mystic, poet, comrade, brother, 
To worship at the shrine we’d known
    So long alone—our cosmic lover!

We loved him many years. His verse
    Revealed a spirit so sublime, 
One soared with him on mystic wings
    Above the peaks of earth and time;
One climbed with him the steps of heaven, 
    Hymned by the music of the spheres, 
Straight to the heart of the Eternal, 
    Where vanish pain and tears. 

He traced the footprints of the Christ
    Adown the sands of time, and heard
His voice serene above the din
    And tumult, of this wistful world. 
He walked with Him, and with Him shared
    The thorns, and scourging, of the crowd, 
The sacred heritage of those
    Who lead men back to God. 

His earthly form grew luminous, 
    A radiance from his being shone, 
Until on earth, he seemed to stand
    In the white light, before the throne. 
’Twas there he marked a trysting-place, 
    This cosmic lover, full of grace, 
And there he still folds each beloved
    In his dear comradeship and peace. [unnumbered page]



Within your consciousness you build
    The new Jerusalem, 
Then are you qualified to lay
    On earth its corner-stone. 
Within yourself is heaven and hell,
    The garden, too, of Eden:
There still live on, both Adam and Eve, 
    The serpent and the dragon.

The seven golden candle-sticks
    That hold the sacred light, 
The seven seals are in you, too, 
    You form the scroll sealed tight, 
And written on the inner side
    As well as on the back, 
Your spirit-self is “word” of God, 
    You need no virtue lack. 

The kings of earth and armies strong
    Within you they encamp:
There do you find great Babylon
    And angel with his trump.
Search not the earth from east to west
    To find seer’s dream come true, 
All you need do, is know yourself, 
    The microcosm are you.

The woman clothèd with the sun, 
    With crown upon her head, 
The symbol is of Cosmic Love, 
    The gracious power which lead
You always to do kindly deeds, 
    To be your better self. 
The moon that’s underneath her feet
    Is vanquished selfish self. [unnumbered page]

Unveil within your consciousness
    This Cosmic Love most fair, 
Then will the virgin bring to birth
    The holy Christ-child there. 
He’s born in place where lately dwelt
    The swine, the sheep, and cattle, 
But being born He thrives and grows, 
    And purges clean the temple. 

When one has overcome the beast
    Which lurks in selfish mire, 
He then is said to stand upon
    A sea of glass and fire;
He’s harnessed his emotions quite, 
    Oft at himself has laughed;
And violent brain storm nevermore
    Shall wreck his mortal craft. 

He evermore shall have a harp, 
    As well as golden crown, 
Its strings are nerves forever tuned, 
    Which never get unstrung. 
The twelve stars in the crown of Life
    Are virtues to express
Within the four-fold field of form—
    Perfection—nothing less. 

The seven seals are seven valves, 
    Through which the life-force flows, 
But fear and hate cause them to shrink, 
    And thus the channel close. 
Love is the force which opens wide
    Life’s channel through each valve. 
He who would know eternal life
    Must practice Cosmic Love. [unnumbered page]



A place in the sun? Why the sun is yours
    So long as you’re willing to let it move on!
A place on earth is your right by birth, 
    And it’s also the birthright of everyone. 

For everyone there is plenty of air, 
    And each should use his full supply, 
But in order to get just one more breath
    You must let the breath you have go by. 

To circulate is the law of life, 
    The law of worlds, and the law of man, 
The law of health, and the law of trade, 
    The law of the universal plan.

God hath decreed that all things of earth
    Must be rightly used for the common good. 
The moment you try to store them up, 
    Whether it’s gold, or blood, or food—

As soon as the circulation stops
    Disorganization and death sets in. 
And this is humanity’s great mistake, 
    The great unpardonable sin,— 

To try to stop the wheels of Life; 
    To try to take of the goods of all
And make for one’s self a separate world
    Running contrary to the whole; [unnumbered page]

Causing friction and hurt and fear, 
    Causing famine and war and death, 
Making of earth a sad, hard place, 
    When Love supplies to all each breath!

The breath you breathe, the thought you think, 
    Life hath decreed you may not hold, 
They pass from you to the common store
    Just like drops in the ocean’s fold. 

The only way that you may control 
    A single atom of your clay
Is to use it well and let it go, 
    Speeding it on its destined way. 

For life is really all there is, 
    And death is merely the price we pay
For not letting all things circulate, 
    Not living freely day by day. 

Let us rightly use all things of earth, 
    Let us plan for the good of humanity whole, 
Giving our strength and service and time, 
    Giving our life, our love, our all!

Instead of making excuses now, 
    Let us end the night of earth’s sad strife, 
Observe heaven’s laws right here and now, 
    For here and now, there is all of Life! [unnumbered page]



The harmony of perfect Love
Enfolds us and in it we move:
We live because we each are part
Of one eternal perfect Heart.

The rhythm of the Oversoul
Vibrates throughout creation-whole:
It is the power which guides the stars, 
It measures out eternal hours. 

Love is the urge our being shapes, 
Love is the power the Archetype keeps, 
Love is the pattern God did take, 
And in its image man create. 

Open the floodgates of the soul, 
Live ever for the good of all, 
Make through the self a channel deep
For universal Love to sweep!

For love is beauty, power, and truth, 
It gives to all eternal youth;
Of human life the quickening leaven, 
Passport to ever-present heaven. [unnumbered page] 



Our body is our world, our planet, 
Of it, we are life, law, and prophet;
A host of cells wherewith to build, 
And in our consciousness we mould
Its form, its size, its age and health, 
Its strength, its beauty, poise and mien;
Thoughts, moods, e’en longings of the soul
Are written in this magic scroll.

Then year by year, and day by day, 
Chisel a likeness in this clay
Of noble mien, and beauty rare, 
Of seasoned youth, beyond compare. 
Stream through it iridescent light, 
Radiance of harmony and life, 
Make it a channel of pure love, 
Then will we find ’tis heaven on earth! [unnumbered page] 

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