Edward William Thomson

(12 February 1849 – 1924 / Peel County, Ontario)

Edward William Thomson Poems

1. Thunderchild's Lament 5/3/2012
2. The Mandan Priest 5/3/2012
3. The Canadian Rossignol (In May) 5/3/2012
4. The Canadian Rossignol (In June) 5/3/2012
5. The Many Mansioned House 5/3/2012
6. When Lincoln Died 5/3/2012
7. The Vision At Shiloh 5/3/2012
8. Sweetest Whistle Ever Blew 5/3/2012
9. To The Princess Louise 5/3/2012
10. Reverie 5/3/2012
11. The Christmas Walk 5/3/2012
12. The Puritan 5/3/2012
13. The Bad Year 5/3/2012
14. The Wheatfield At Gettysburg 5/3/2012
15. To Theodore Roosevelt 5/3/2012
16. We Talked Of Lincoln 5/3/2012
17. Father Abraham Lincoln 5/3/2012
18. A Veteran Cavalryman's Tale 5/3/2012
19. Parliament Of The Ages 5/3/2012
20. From Peter Ottawa 5/3/2012
21. Our Kindergartner 5/3/2012
22. Elegy For The Doctor 5/3/2012
23. Parables 5/3/2012
24. Day Dream 5/3/2012
25. Kismet 5/3/2012
26. Hepaticas 5/3/2012
27. Flown 5/3/2012
28. Enshrined 5/3/2012
29. Cul-De Sac 5/3/2012
30. Consolation 5/3/2012
31. Environment 5/3/2012
32. Happyheart 5/3/2012
33. A Canadian Reply 5/3/2012
34. Resurrection 5/3/2012
35. Judgment Hour 5/3/2012
36. Our Town's Comforter 5/3/2012
37. Brethren Of The Boat 5/3/2012
38. Prelude 5/3/2012
39. Aspiration 5/3/2012
40. Hail To The Chief 5/3/2012

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Best Poem of Edward William Thomson

King Volsung And The Skald

HE sang on the Heath of the Volsungs,
Mid Volsung common men,
Shepherds, chafferers, delvers,
And the fowlers of the fen,
The beaters of the anvil,

Wights who mined the ore,
Tamers of the horsekind,
And fishers from the shore.

Tall through the press strode Sigmund,
Lord-warden of the Peace,


While, shrilling fierce, the blood song
Rang to the throng’s increase,
And some lips smiled the pleasure
Of Lynxes scenting prey,
And some brows frowned the anger


That holds the wolf at bay.

“Be dumb, O Skald!” spoke ...

Read the full of King Volsung And The Skald

Happyheart

AMID a waste of worn-out apple trees,
In doorless ruin, nigh a grass-grown road
Set far from every tumult of to-day,
Stands yet the house where Happyheart was born.

That day, his mother told him once, she wept,

Boding what gusty fates must threat the babe
Who lay as musing all delightedly

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