Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon

(January 12, 1829 – September 20, 1879 / Canada)

Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon Poems

1. The Bride Of A Year 1/3/2003
2. A Few Short Years From Now 4/20/2010
3. A Girl’s Day Dream And Its Fulfilment 4/20/2010
4. A Touching Ceremony 4/20/2010
5. A Welcome To The Month Of Mary 4/20/2010
6. A Worldly Death-Bed 4/20/2010
7. Abraham’s Sacrifice 4/20/2010
8. After The Ball 4/20/2010
9. Alain’s Choice 4/20/2010
10. Ash-Wednesday 4/20/2010
11. Beneath The Snow 4/20/2010
12. Bound For California 4/20/2010
13. Come, Tell Me Some Olden Story 4/20/2010
14. Earth’s Moments Of Gloom 4/20/2010
15. Flirtation 4/20/2010
16. Flowers And Stars 4/20/2010
17. Given And Taken 4/20/2010
18. Harry (Engaged To Be Married) To Charley (Who Is Not) 4/20/2010
19. Harvests 4/20/2010
20. Hon. James B. Clay 4/20/2010
21. Husband And Wife 4/20/2010
22. In Memory Of The Late G. C. Of Montreal 4/20/2010
23. Moonlight Reveries 4/20/2010
24. My Thoughts To-Night 4/20/2010
25. Mystical Rose, Pray For Us! 4/20/2010
26. Nature’s Music 4/20/2010
27. On Some Rose Leaves Brought From The Vale Of Cashmere 4/20/2010
28. On The Death Of The Same Revered Nun... 4/20/2010
29. Our Canadian Woods In Early Autumn 4/20/2010
30. Our Mountain Cemetery 4/20/2010
31. Mater Christianorum, Ora Pro Nobis 4/20/2010
32. Red Rock Camp 4/20/2010
33. Rejoicing After The Battle Of Inkerman 4/20/2010
34. Rich And Poor 4/20/2010
35. Sea-Shore Musings 4/20/2010
36. Sister M. B.’s Arrival In Montreal , 1654. 4/20/2010
37. The Blind Man Of Jericho 4/20/2010
38. The Boy’s Appeal 4/20/2010
39. The Child’s Dream 4/20/2010
40. The Choice Of Sweet Shy Clare 4/20/2010

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Best Poem of Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon

The Garden Of Gethsemane

The place is fair and tranquil, Judaea’s cloudless sky
Smiles down on distant mountain, on glade and valley nigh,
And odorous winds bring fragrance from palm-tops darkly green,
And olive trees whose branches wave softly o’er the scene.

Whence comes the awe-struck feeling that fills the gazer’s breast,
The breath, quick-drawn and panting, the awe, the solemn rest?
What strange and holy magic seems earth and air to fill,
That worldly thoughts and feelings are now all hushed and still?

Ah! here, one solemn evening, in ages long gone by,
A mourner knelt and ...

Read the full of The Garden Of Gethsemane

A Child’s Treasures

Thou art home at last, my darling one,
Flushed and tired with thy play,
From morning dawn until setting sun
Hast thou been at sport away;
And thy steps are weary—hot thy brow,
Yet thine eyes with joy are bright,—
Ah! I read the riddle, show me now
The treasures thou graspest tight.

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