Bliss William Carman

(15 April 1861 – 8 June 1929 / New Brunswick)

Bliss William Carman Poems

1. The Garden Of Saint Rose 9/13/2010
2. The Mendicants 9/13/2010
3. The Unreturning 9/13/2010
4. The Sleepers 9/13/2010
5. The Nancy's Pride 9/13/2010
6. The Homestead 9/13/2010
7. The Joys Of The Road 9/13/2010
8. To Rudyard Kipling 9/13/2010
9. Under The April Moon 9/13/2010
10. Veni Creator 9/13/2010
11. White Nassau 9/13/2010
12. Winter Twilight 9/13/2010
13. In The Workshop 9/13/2010
14. Lord Of My Heart's Elation 9/13/2010
15. Moonrise 9/13/2010
16. Night Lyric 9/13/2010
17. Off Monomoy 9/13/2010
18. On The Plaza 9/13/2010
19. Songs Of The Grass 9/13/2010
20. Spring Night 9/13/2010
21. In The Wings 9/13/2010
22. Why 9/13/2010
23. The Rainbird 9/13/2010
24. The Ships Of Saint John 9/13/2010
25. The Soul Of April 9/13/2010
26. The World Voice 9/13/2010
27. The Vagabonds 9/13/2010
28. The Weed’s Counsel 9/13/2010
29. The Sending Of The Magi 9/13/2010
30. The Heart Of Night 9/13/2010
31. Weather Of The Soul 9/13/2010
32. Lockerbie Street 9/13/2010
33. Low Tide On Grand Pré 9/13/2010
34. Resignation 9/13/2010
35. Over The Wintry Threshold 9/13/2010
36. Thanksgiving 9/13/2010
37. The Blue Heron 9/13/2010
38. The Campfire Of The Sun 9/13/2010
39. The Eavesdropper 9/13/2010
40. The Faithless Lover 9/13/2010
Best Poem of Bliss William Carman

A Vagabond Song

There is something in the autumn that is native to my blood—
Touch of manner, hint of mood;
And my heart is like a rhyme,
With the yellow and the purple and the crimson keeping time.

The scarlet of the maples can shake me like a cry
Of bugles going by.
And my lonely spirit thrills
To see the frosty asters like a smoke upon the hills.

There is something in October sets the gypsy blood astir;
We must rise and follow her,
When from every hill of flame
She calls and calls each vagabond by name.

Read the full of A Vagabond Song

A Mountain Gateway

I know a vale where I would go one day,
When June comes back and all the world once more
Is glad with summer. Deep in shade it lies
A mighty cleft between the bosoming hills,
A cool dim gateway to the mountains' heart.

On either side the wooded slopes come down,
Hemlock and beech and chestnut. Here and there
Through the deep forest laurel spreads and gleams,

[Hata Bildir]