Jean Blewett

(4 November 1872 - 1934 / Scotia, Lake Erie, Ontario)

Jean Blewett Poems

1. For He Was Scotch, And So Was She 9/28/2010
2. Her Portrait 9/28/2010
3. Margaret 9/28/2010
4. The Passage 9/28/2010
5. The Usurer 9/28/2010
6. What Time The Morning Stars Arise 9/28/2010
7. Quebec 9/28/2010
8. The Air Castles 5/8/2012
9. The Argument 5/8/2012
10. The Cricket 5/8/2012
11. The Criticisim 5/8/2012
12. Earth To The Twentieth Century 5/8/2012
13. The Emigrant Laddie 5/8/2012
14. Envy 5/8/2012
15. Estranged 5/8/2012
16. Fool's Luck 5/8/2012
17. Forgive And Forget 5/8/2012
18. Friend Or Foe? 5/8/2012
19. The Ghosts Of Night 5/8/2012
20. God's Warmth Is She 5/8/2012
21. Immortality 5/8/2012
22. The Imprisoned Lark 5/8/2012
23. In Memoriam 5/8/2012
24. In Sunflower Time 5/8/2012
25. Jack 5/8/2012
26. Janet 5/8/2012
27. Jessie 5/8/2012
28. The King's Gift 5/8/2012
29. The Lad From Inverness 5/8/2012
30. Grace 5/8/2012
31. The Harbor Lights Of Home 5/8/2012
32. Her Little Way 5/8/2012
33. Her Mission 5/8/2012
34. Her Prayer 5/8/2012
35. The Highland Shepherd 5/8/2012
36. Living Freshness 5/8/2012
37. The Lonesomest House 5/8/2012
38. The Long Ago 5/8/2012
39. Love's Lesson 5/8/2012
40. Love's Sacrifice 5/8/2012

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Best Poem of Jean Blewett

A Good Woman

Her eyes are the windows of a soul
Where only the white thoughts spring,
And they look, as the eyes of the angels look,
For the good in everything.

Her lips can whisper the tenderest words
That weary and worn can hear,
Can tell of the dawn of a better morn
Till only the cowards fear.

Her hands can lift up the fallen one
From an overthrow complete,
Can take a soul from the mire of sin
And lead it to Christ's dear feet.

And she can walk wherever she will-
She walketh never alone.
The work she does is the Master's work,
And God guards well ...

Read the full of A Good Woman

Chore Time

WHEN I'm at gran'dad's on the farm,
I hear along 'bout six o'clock,
Just when I'm feelin' snug an' warm,
'Ho, Bobby, come and feed your stock.'

I jump and get into my clothes;
It's dark as pitch, an' shivers run
All up my back. Now, I suppose
Not many boys would think this fun.

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