Archibald Lampman

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

Archibald Lampman Poems

121. The Truth 4/8/2010
122. Midnight 1/1/2004
123. Alcyone 4/8/2010
124. An October Sunset 4/8/2010
125. An Ode To The Hills 4/8/2010
126. A Ballade Of Waiting 4/8/2010
127. The Child's Music Lesson 4/8/2010
128. The Growth Of Love Xi 1/1/2004
129. An Athenian Reverie 4/8/2010
130. The Bird And The Hour 4/8/2010
131. After Rain 4/8/2010
132. Among The Millet 4/8/2010
133. The Autumn Waste 4/8/2010
134. In November (2) 1/1/2004
135. Among The Orchards 4/8/2010
136. Winter Break 4/8/2010
137. A Prayer 4/8/2010
138. Abu Midjan 4/8/2010
139. An Autumn Landscape 4/8/2010
140. Morning On The Lièvre 1/1/2004
141. Solitude 4/8/2010
142. The City At The End Of Things 1/1/2004
143. A Niagara Landscape 1/1/2004
144. Temagami 1/1/2004
145. In November (1) 1/1/2004
146. Winter Uplands 1/1/2004
147. In October 4/8/2010
148. Winter Evening 1/1/2004
149. To A Millionaire 1/1/2004
150. Heat 1/1/2004
151. Voices Of Earth 1/1/2004
152. Winter-Solitude 1/1/2004
153. A January Morning 1/1/2004
154. A Vision Of Twilight 4/8/2010
155. A Song 4/8/2010
156. A Thunderstorm 1/1/2004
157. A Night Of Storm 4/8/2010

Comments about Archibald Lampman

  • 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

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  • 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 Night Of Storm

Oh city, whom grey stormy hands have sown,
With restless drift, scarce broken now of any,
Out of the dark thy windows dim and many
Gleam red across the storm. Sound is there none,
Save evermore the fierce wind's sweep and moan,
From whose grey hands the keen white snow is shaken
In desperate gusts, that fitfully lull and waken,
Dense as night's darkness round they towers of stone.

Darkling and strange art thou thus vexed and chidden;
More dark and strange thy veiled agony,
City of storm, in whose grey heart are hidden
What stormier woes, what lives that ...

Read the full of A Night Of Storm

The Growth Of Love Xi

XI
Belovèd, those who moan of love's brief day
Shall find but little grace with me, I guess,
Who know too well this passion's tenderness
To deem that it shall lightly pass away,
A moment's interlude in life's dull play;
Though many loves have lingered to distress,
So shall not ours, sweet Lady, ne'ertheless,
But deepen with us till both heads be grey.

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