Emily Pauline Johnson

[Tekahionwake] (10 March 1861 – 7 March 1913 / Chiefswood, Ontario)

Emily Pauline Johnson Poems

41. The Songster 1/1/2004
42. My English Letter 1/1/2004
43. The Camper 1/1/2004
44. At Half-Mast 1/1/2004
45. An Etching 1/1/2004
46. The Cattle Country 1/1/2004
47. The Birds' Lullaby 4/7/2010
48. Re-Voyage 1/1/2004
49. The Archers 1/1/2004
50. Christmastide 1/1/2004
51. Guard Of The Eastern Gate 1/1/2004
52. The Mariner 1/1/2004
53. The Maple 1/1/2004
54. Lady Icicle 1/1/2004
55. A Toast 1/1/2004
56. The Lifting Of The Mist 1/1/2004
57. The Train Dogs 1/1/2004
58. The Legend Of Qu'Appelle Valley 1/1/2004
59. Mosses 1/1/2004
60. The Riders Of The Plains 1/1/2004
61. Calgary Of The Plains 1/1/2004
62. The Sleeping Giant (Thunder Bay, Lake Superior) 1/1/2004
63. The Lost Lagoon 1/1/2004
64. Nocturne 1/1/2004
65. In Grey Days 1/1/2004
66. Overlooked 1/1/2004
67. The Corn Husker 1/1/2004
68. The Happy Hunting Grounds 1/1/2004
69. Harvest Time 1/1/2004
70. Good-Bye 1/1/2004
71. Day Dawn 1/1/2004
72. In The Shadows 1/1/2004
73. The Homing Bee 1/1/2004
74. Penseroso 1/1/2004
75. At Crow's Nest Pass 1/1/2004
76. A Prodigal 1/1/2004
77. At Husking Time 1/1/2004
78. The Wolf 1/1/2004
79. Lullaby Of The Iroquois 1/1/2004
80. Rainfall 1/1/2004

Comments about Emily Pauline Johnson

  • Jerry Apted Jerry Apted (2/14/2012 3:46:00 AM)

    Her words flew from her beating heart. Alas! this is now still. Her words will stay upon the pages for Eternity

    43 person liked.
    7 person did not like.
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

Rainfall

From out the west, where darkling storm-clouds float,
The 'waking wind pipes soft its rising note.

From out the west, o'erhung with fringes grey,
The wind preludes with sighs its roundelay,

Then blowing, singing, piping, laughing loud,
It scurries on before the grey storm-cloud;

[Report Error]