Margaret Elizabeth Sangster Poems

It isn't the thing you do, dear,
It's the thing you leave undone
That gives you a bit of a heartache
At setting of the sun.
...

If I had known in the morning
How wearily all the day
the words unkind
would trouble my mind, that
...

Jus' a little pair o' gloves,
Sorter thin an' worn;
With th' fingers neatly darned,
Like they had been torn.
...

I've crossed the bar at last, mates,
My longest voyage is done;
And I can sit here, peaceful,
And watch th' setting sun
...

Down by the end of the lane it stands,
Where the sumac grows in a crimson thatch,
Down where the sweet wild berry patch,
...

Let's go down the road together, you and I,
Let's go down the road together,
Through the vivid autumn weather;
...

Each day when the glow of sunset
Fades in the western sky,
And the wee ones, tired of playing,
Go tripping lightly by,
...

I saw a little dog today,
And oh, that dog was lost;
...

Never yet was a springtime,
Late though lingered the snow,
That the sap stirred not at the whisper
Of the south wind, sweet and low;
...

'You are white and tall and swaying,' sang the river
to the tree,
'And your leaves are touched with silver - but you
never smile on me;
...