Identifier: canadianmagazine36torouoft (find matches)
Title: The canadian magazine of politics, science, art and literature, November 1910-April 1911
Year: 1893 (1890s)
Authors:
Subjects: Canadian periodicals
Publisher: Toronto, Ontario publishing co
Contributing Library: Toronto Public Library: Research and Reference Libraries
Digitizing Sponsor: University of Toronto

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Text Appearing Before Image:
in it : nor are the travelling al-
together like Mrs. Caesar. Hence the
auction sales of unclaimed baggage
stuffed with bricks and tbe loss of
silver and other articles taken by the
so-called souvenir collectors.)
" Muzzle not the ox that treadeth down
the corn."—Solomon.

AN APRIL NIGHT
BY L. M. MONTGOMERY

THE moon comes up o'er the deeps of the woods.
And the long, low dingles that hide in the hills.
Where the ancient beeches are moist with buds
Over the pools and the whimpering rills.

And with her the mists, like dryads that creep
From their oaks, or the spirts of pine-hid springs,
Who hold, while the eyes of the world are asleep,
With the wind on the hills their gay revellincrs.

Down on th marshlands with flicker and glow
Wandere Will-o'-the-wisp through the night.
Seeking for witch-gold lost long ago
By the glimmer of goblin lantern light.

The night is a sorceress. dusk-eyed and dear.
Akin to all eerie and elfin things.
Who weaves about us in meadow and mere
The spell of hundred vanished springs.
Text Appearing After Image:

THE WALKK IN THE WOOD
By JEAN BLEWETT

WHEN mother takes us to walk in the wood,
She finds a seat in a corner shady,
And she tells of children sweet and good,
Till Alice acts like a grown-up lady
Tn meetin' time, and so do I,
Though Im only seven and very small:
And I get so tired that by and by
I laugh and laugh at nothing at all.

When sister takes us to walk in the wood,
You see out eyes begin to glisten:
She makes no mention of children good.
But she talks and talks, and we just listen :
For there 'mong the blossoms and bramble-berries
She tells us of pixies, elves and fairies,
Shows us the spot where they meet together
Monlght and starlight and cloudy weather.
Singing their maddest, memest song,
Skipping and dancmg the whole night long!

And sister says when the sunbeams come.
Kissing the flowers till they awaken.
All the little folks scamper home,
Leaving the wonderful glade forsaken—
Scamper home to the green and gold :
Of maidenhair ferns and grass and messes
Make themselves cradles—oh, aren't they bold
Up where the oak tree sways and tosses.

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