Gordon was also at one time a master at Upper Canada College. He sold more than five million copies of his works in his lifetime, and some of his works are still in print.
Gordon was born in Glengarry County, Ontario, the son of Rev. Daniel Gordon — and Mary Robertson Gordon d.
Like many other young men in the area, Gordon went to Toronto to study at University of Toronto. Log in to rate this item. You must be logged in to post a review. There are no reviews for the current version of this product Refreshing There are no reviews for previous versions of this product. Moderation of Questionable Content Thank you for your interest in helping us moderate questionable content on Lulu.
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Please verify your birth date to continue. Month January February March April May June July August September October November December Day 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 Year We notice you are using a browser version that we do not support. Then all averred, I had killed the bird That brought the fog and mist. The fair breeze blew, the white foam flew, The furrow followed free; We were the first that ever burst Into that silent sea. Down dropped the breeze, the sails dropped down, 'Twas sad as sad could be; And we did speak only to break The silence of the sea!
All in a hot and copper sky, The bloody sun, at noon, Right up above the mast did stand, No bigger than the moon. Day after day, day after day, We stuck, nor breath nor motion; As idle as a painted ship Upon a painted ocean. Water, water, everywhere, And all the boards did shrink; Water, water, everywhere, Nor any drop to drink. The very deeps did rot: That ever this should be! Yea, slimy things did crawl with legs Upon the slimy sea. About, about, in reel and rout The death-fires danced at night; The water, like a witch's oils, Burnt green, and blue and white.
And some in dreams assured were Of the spirit that plagued us so; Nine fathom deep he had followed us From the land of mist and snow. And every tongue, through utter drought, Was withered at the root; We could not speak, no more than if We had been choked with soot. Instead of the cross, the albatross About my neck was hung.
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Part III There passed a weary time. Each throat Was parched, and glazed each eye. How glazed each weary eye, When looking westward, I beheld A something in the sky. At first it seemed a little speck, And then it seemed a mist; It moved and moved, and took at last A certain shape, I wist.
A speck, a mist, a shape, I wist! And still it neared and neared: As if it dodged a water sprite, It plunged and tacked and veered. With throats unslaked, with black lips baked, We could nor laugh nor wail; Through utter drouth all dumb we stood! I bit my arm, I sucked the blood, And cried, A sail! With throats unslaked, with black lips baked, Agape they heard me call: I cried she tacks no more! Hither to work us weal; Without a breeze, without a tide, She steadies with upright keel!
The western wave was all aflame. The day was well nigh done! Almost upon the western wave Rested the broad bright sun; When that strange shape drove suddenly Betwixt us and the sun.
To Him that Hath: A Novel of the West Today - Ralph Connor - Google Книги
And straight the sun was flecked with bars, Heaven's mother send us grace! As if through a dungeon grate he peered With broad and burning face. Are those her sails that glance in the sun, Like restless gossameres? Are those her ribs through which the sun Did peer, as through a grate? And is that woman all her crew? Is that a Death? Is Death that woman's mate? Her lips were red, her looks were free, Her locks were yellow as gold: Her skin was as white as leprosy, The nightmare Life-in-Death was she, Who thicks man's blood with cold.
The naked hulk alongside came, And the twain were casting dice; 'The game is done! The sun's rim dips; the stars rush out: At one stride comes the dark; With far-heard whisper, o'er the sea, Off shot the spectre bark. We listened and looked sideways up! Fear at my heart, as at a cup, My lifeblood seemed to sip!
The stars were dim, and thick the night, The steersman's face by his lamp gleamed white; From the sails the dews did drip-- Till clomb above the eastern bar The horned moon, with one bright star Within the nether tip. One after one, by the star-dogged moon, Too quick for groan or sigh, Each turned his face with ghastly pang, And cursed me with his eye.
Four times fifty living men, And I heard nor sigh nor groan With heavy thump, a lifeless lump, They dropped down one by one. Their souls did from their bodies fly-- They fled to bliss or woe!
To Him That Hath: A Tale of the West of Today by Ralph Connor
And every soul, it passed me by, Like the whizz of my crossbow! I fear thy skinny hand! And thou art long, and lank, and brown, As is the ribbed sea-sand. I fear thee and thy glittering eye, And thy skinny hand, so brown. This body dropped not down. Alone, alone, all, all alone, Alone on a wide wide sea!
to Him That Hath a Novel of The West of Today Hardcover – April 27 2016
And never a saint took pity on My soul in agony. The many men, so beautiful! And they all dead did lie: And a thousand thousand slimy things Lived on; and so did I. I looked upon the rotting sea, And drew my eyes away; I looked upon the rotting deck, And there the dead men lay. I looked to heaven, and tried to pray; But or ever a prayer had gushed, A wicked whisper came, and made My heart as dry as dust. I closed my lids, and kept them close, Till the balls like pulses beat; For the sky and the sea, and the sea and the sky Lay like a load on my weary eye, And the dead were at my feet.
The cold sweat melted from their limbs, Nor rot nor reek did they: The look with which they looked on me Had never passed away. An orphan's curse would drag to hell A spirit from on high; But oh! Seven days, seven nights, I saw that curse, And yet I could not die.
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- The Moon Over Michigan.
The moving moon went up the sky, And nowhere did abide: Softly she was going up, And a star or two beside-- Her beams bemocked the sultry main, Like April hoar-frost spread; But where the ship's huge shadow lay, The charmed water burnt alway A still and awful red. Beyond the shadow of the ship, I watched the water snakes: They moved in tracks of shining white, And when they reared, the elfish light Fell off in hoary flakes.
Within the shadow of the ship I watched their rich attire: Blue, glossy green, and velvet black, They coiled and swam; and every track Was a flash of golden fire. O happy living things! No tongue Their beauty might declare: A spring of love gushed from my heart, And I blessed them unaware: Sure my kind saint took pity on me, And I blessed them unaware. The selfsame moment I could pray; And from my neck so free The albatross fell off, and sank Like lead into the sea. Part V Oh sleep! To Mary-Queen the praise be given!
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She sent the gentle sleep from heaven, That slid into my soul. The silly buckets on the deck, That had so long remained, I dreamt that they were filled with dew; And when I awoke, it rained. My lips were wet, my throat was cold, My garments all were dank; Sure I had drunken in my dreams, And still my body drank. I moved, and could not feel my limbs: I was so light--almost I thought that I had died in sleep, And was a blessed ghost.
And soon I heard a roaring wind: It did not come anear; But with its sound it shook the sails, That were so thin and sere. The upper air bursts into life! And a hundred fire-flags sheen, To and fro they were hurried about! And to and fro, and in and out, The wan stars danced between.
And the coming wind did roar more loud, And the sails did sigh like sedge; And the rain poured down from one black cloud; The moon was at its edge. The thick black cloud was cleft, and still The moon was at its side: