Archibald Lampman

(17 November 1861 - 10 February 1899 / Morpeth, Ontario)

Archibald Lampman Poems

121. Among The Orchards 4/8/2010
122. Outlook 1/1/2004
123. After Rain 4/8/2010
124. Distance 4/8/2010
125. Spring On The River 4/8/2010
126. The Land Of Pallas 4/8/2010
127. Personality 4/8/2010
128. We Too Shall Sleep 4/8/2010
129. Perfect Love 4/8/2010
130. A Prayer 4/8/2010
131. Abu Midjan 4/8/2010
132. Winter Hue's Recalled 4/8/2010
133. Three Flower Petals 4/8/2010
134. Snowbirds 4/8/2010
135. The Railway Station 1/1/2004
136. An Autumn Landscape 4/8/2010
137. Life And Nature 4/8/2010
138. The Largest Life 4/8/2010
139. Winter Break 4/8/2010
140. The Organist 4/8/2010
141. The City At The End Of Things 1/1/2004
142. Winter Uplands 1/1/2004
143. Temagami 1/1/2004
144. Solitude 4/8/2010
145. A Night Of Storm 4/8/2010
146. In November (1) 1/1/2004
147. Midnight 1/1/2004
148. A Vision Of Twilight 4/8/2010
149. A Thunderstorm 1/1/2004
150. Heat 1/1/2004
151. A Niagara Landscape 1/1/2004
152. Winter-Solitude 1/1/2004
153. Winter Evening 1/1/2004
154. Voices Of Earth 1/1/2004
155. To A Millionaire 1/1/2004
156. The Woodcutter's Hut 4/8/2010
157. A January Morning 1/1/2004

Comments about Archibald Lampman

  • M. Sprindys (12/15/2018 6:39:00 PM)

    Lorenna Mckinnet does a lovely rendition of Snow. Beautiful words indeed.

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  • Izuchukwu Ike (11/26/2018 6:51:00 PM)

    can you make a person read the poem. The robot's voice drives my mind crazy

  • Izuchukwu Ike (11/26/2018 6:49:00 PM)

    what is the theme of the poem and can you tell us more about it

  • Paul Reed Paul Reed (12/18/2013 8:26:00 AM)

    Haunting and inspriing poetry

Best Poem of Archibald Lampman

A January Morning

The glittering roofs are still with frost; each worn
Black chimney builds into the quiet sky
Its curling pile to crumble silently.
Far out to westward on the edge of morn,
The slender misty city towers up-borne
Glimmer faint rose against the pallid blue;
And yonder on those northern hills, the hue
Of amethyst, hang fleeces dull as horn.
And here behind me come the woodmen's sleighs
With shouts and clamorous squeakings; might and main
Up the steep slope the horses stamp and strain,
Urged on by hoarse-tongued drivers—cheeks ablaze, ...

Read the full of A January Morning

A January Morning

The glittering roofs are still with frost; each worn
Black chimney builds into the quiet sky
Its curling pile to crumble silently.
Far out to westward on the edge of morn,
The slender misty city towers up-borne
Glimmer faint rose against the pallid blue;
And yonder on those northern hills, the hue
Of amethyst, hang fleeces dull as horn.
And here behind me come the woodmen's sleighs

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