Duncan Campbell Scott

(2 August 1862 – 19 December 1947 / Ottawa, Ontario)

Duncan Campbell Scott Poems

41. Rain And The Robin 1/3/2003
42. Rapids At Night 1/3/2003
43. Song 4/19/2010
44. Spring On Mattagmi 4/19/2010
45. Stone Breaking 1/3/2003
46. The Apparition 4/19/2010
47. The Battle Of Lundy's Lane 4/19/2010
48. The Beggar And The Angel 4/19/2010
49. The Builder 4/19/2010
50. The Closed Door 4/19/2010
51. The Forgers 4/19/2010
52. The Forsaken 1/3/2003
53. The Ghost's Story 4/19/2010
54. The Half-Breed Girl 1/3/2003
55. The Harvest 1/3/2003
56. The Height Of Land 1/3/2003
57. The Leaf 4/19/2010
58. The Lover To His Lass 4/19/2010
59. The Message 1/3/2003
60. The November Pansy 4/19/2010
61. The Onondaga Madonna 1/3/2003
62. The Sailor's Sweetheart 4/19/2010
63. The Sea By The Wood 4/19/2010
64. The Violet Pressed In A Copy Of Shakespeare 1/3/2003
65. The Voice And The Dusk 4/19/2010
66. The Wood By The Sea 4/19/2010
67. The Wood-Spring To The Poet 4/19/2010
68. Three Songs 4/19/2010
69. To A Canadian Aviator Who Died For His Country In France 1/3/2003
70. To A Canadian Lad Killed In The War 4/19/2010
71. To The Heroic Soul 4/19/2010
72. When Spring Goes By 1/3/2003
73. Willow-Pipes 4/19/2010
Best Poem of Duncan Campbell Scott

When Spring Goes By

The winds that on the uplands softly lie,
Grow keener where the ice is lingering still
Where the first robin on the sheltered hill
Pipes blithely to the tune, "When Spring goes by!"
Hear him again, "Spring! Spring!" He seems to cry,
Haunting the fall of the flute-throated rill,
That keeps a gentle, constant, silver thrill,
While he is restless in his ecstasy.

Ah! the soft budding of the virginal woods,
Of the frail fruit trees by the vanishing lakes:
There's the new moon where the clear sunset floods,
A trace of dew upon the rose leaf sky;
And hark! what...

Read the full of When Spring Goes By


A deep bell that links the downs
To the drowsy air;
Every loop of sound that swoons,
Finds a circle fair,
Whereon it doth rest and fade;
Every stroke that dins is laid
Like a node,
Spinning out the quivering, fine,
Vibrant tendrils of a vine:

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