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

Canadian Born

We first saw light in Canada, the land beloved of God;
We are the pulse of Canada, its marrow and its blood:
And we, the men of Canada, can face the world and brag
That we were born in Canada beneath the British flag.

Few of us have the blood of kings, few are of courtly birth,
But few are vagabonds or rogues of doubtful name and worth;
And all have one credential that entitles us to brag--
That we were born in Canada beneath the British flag.

We've yet to make our money, we've yet to make our fame,
But we have gold and glory in our clean colonial ...

Read the full of Canadian Born

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;

[Hata Bildir]