Pauline Johnson Quotes

The pine trees whispering, the heron's cry,
The plover's passing wing, his lullaby.

August is laughing across the sky,
Laughing, while paddle, canoe and I
Drift, drift,
Where the hills uplift
On either side of the current swift.

Sleep, with her tender balm, her touch so kind, Has passed me by;
Afar I see her vesture, velvet-lined, Float silently;
O! Sleep, my tired eyes had need of thee!
Is thy sweet kiss not meant to-night for me?