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 Fallen 8/31/2015
52. The Forgers 4/19/2010
53. The Forsaken 1/3/2003
54. The Ghost's Story 4/19/2010
55. The Half-Breed Girl 1/3/2003
56. The Harvest 1/3/2003
57. The Height Of Land 1/3/2003
58. The Leaf 4/19/2010
59. The Lover To His Lass 4/19/2010
60. The Message 1/3/2003
61. The November Pansy 4/19/2010
62. The Onondaga Madonna 1/3/2003
63. The Sailor's Sweetheart 4/19/2010
64. The Sea By The Wood 4/19/2010
65. The Violet Pressed In A Copy Of Shakespeare 1/3/2003
66. The Voice And The Dusk 4/19/2010
67. The Wood By The Sea 4/19/2010
68. The Wood-Spring To The Poet 4/19/2010
69. Three Songs 4/19/2010
70. To A Canadian Aviator Who Died For His Country In France 1/3/2003
71. To A Canadian Lad Killed In The War 4/19/2010
72. To The Heroic Soul 4/19/2010
73. When Spring Goes By 1/3/2003
74. Willow-Pipes 4/19/2010

Comments about Duncan Campbell Scott

  • Tracy Shields (10/24/2009 5:08:00 PM)

    Imagine Hitler's work continuing on in history, with no end in sight. Imagine Hitler's work continuing for so long that citizens got used to an everending holocaust. Now you understand Duncan Campbell Scott.

    Thoughts from The Circle Game, Roland Chrisjohn and Sherri Young

    11 person liked.
    3 person did not like.
Best Poem of Duncan Campbell Scott

The Forsaken

Once in the winter
Out on a lake
In the heart of the north-land,
Far from the Fort
And far from the hunters,
A Chippewa woman
With her sick baby,
Crouched in the last hours
Of a great storm.
Frozen and hungry,
She fished through the ice
With a line of the twisted
Bark of the cedar,
And a rabbit-bone hook
Polished and barbed;
Fished with the bare hook
All through the wild day,
Fished and caught nothing;
While the young chieftain
Tugged at her breasts,
Or slept in the lacings
Of the warm tikanagan.
All the ...

Read the full of The Forsaken

From Shadow

Now the November skies,
And the clouds that are thin and gray,
That drop with the wind away;
A flood of sunlight rolls,
In a tide of shallow light,
Gold on the land and white
On the water, dim and warm in the wood;
Then it is gone, and the wan
Clear of the shade

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