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
...

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

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,
...

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;
...

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

'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;
...