Emily Pauline Johnson

[Tekahionwake] (10 March 1861 – 7 March 1913 / Chiefswood, Ontario)

Emily Pauline Johnson Poems

1. Joe 5/8/2012
2. The King's Consort 1/1/2004
3. The Idlers 1/1/2004
4. Through Time And Bitter Distance 4/7/2010
5. When George Was King 4/7/2010
6. Workworn 1/1/2004
7. Where Leaps The Ste. Marie 1/1/2004
8. The Man In Chrysanthemum Land 1/1/2004
9. Lady Lorgnette 1/1/2004
10. The Pilot Of The Plains 4/7/2010
11. The Indian Corn Planter 1/1/2004
12. Low Tide At St. Andrews 1/1/2004
13. Give Us Barabbas 4/7/2010
14. The Vine 1/1/2004
15. Easter 1/1/2004
16. Wave-Won 1/1/2004
17. Dawendine 1/1/2004
18. Golden--Of The Selkirks 1/1/2004
19. Your Mirror Frame 1/1/2004
20. Under Canvas 1/1/2004
21. Erie Waters 1/1/2004
22. Wolverine 4/7/2010
23. The Overture 1/1/2004
24. The Firs 1/1/2004
25. And He Said, Fight On 4/7/2010
26. The Birds' Lullaby 4/7/2010
27. The Trail To Lillooet 1/1/2004
28. Brandon 1/1/2004
29. Prairie Greyhounds (C.P.R. "No. 1," Westbound) 1/1/2004
30. The Quill Worker 1/1/2004
31. The Ballad Of Yaada (A Legend Of The Pacific Coast) 1/1/2004
32. The Vagabonds 1/1/2004
33. Marshlands 1/1/2004
34. Fasting 1/1/2004
35. Hare-Bell 1/1/2004
36. The Art Of Alma-Tadema 1/1/2004
37. The City And The Sea 1/1/2004
38. Brier: Good Friday 4/7/2010
39. Thistle-Down 1/1/2004
40. The Flight Of The Crows 1/1/2004
Best Poem of Emily Pauline Johnson

A Cry From An Indian Wife

My forest brave, my Red-skin love, farewell;
We may not meet to-morrow; who can tell
What mighty ills befall our little band,
Or what you'll suffer from the white man's hand?
Here is your knife! I thought 'twas sheathed for aye.
No roaming bison calls for it to-day;
No hide of prairie cattle will it maim;
The plains are bare, it seeks a nobler game:
'Twill drink the life-blood of a soldier host.
Go; rise and strike, no matter what the cost.
Yet stay. Revolt not at the Union Jack,
Nor raise Thy hand against this stripling pack
Of white-faced ...

Read the full of A Cry From An Indian Wife

Overlooked

Sleep, with her tender balm, her touch so kind,
Has passed me by;
Afar I see her vesture, velvet-lined,
Float silently;
O! Sleep, my tired eyes had need of thee!
Is thy sweet kiss not meant to-night for me?

Peace, with the blessings that I longed for so,
Has passed me by;

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