Submit Your Poems
Get Your Premium Membership

Best Famous Lucy Maud Montgomery Poems

Here is a collection of the all-time best famous Lucy Maud Montgomery poems. This is a select list of the best famous Lucy Maud Montgomery poetry. Reading, writing, and enjoying famous Lucy Maud Montgomery poetry (as well as classical and contemporary poems) is a great past time. These top poems are the best examples of Lucy Maud Montgomery poems.

Search for the best famous Lucy Maud Montgomery poems, articles about Lucy Maud Montgomery poems, poetry blogs, or anything else Lucy Maud Montgomery poem related using the PoetrySoup search engine at the top of the page.

See also: Best Member Poems

Go Back

by Lucy Maud Montgomery | |

To One Hated

 Had it been when I came to the valley where the paths parted asunder,
Chance had led my feet to the way of love, not hate,
I might have cherished you well, have been to you fond and faithful,
Great as my hatred is, so might my love have been great.
Each cold word of mine might have been a kiss impassioned, Warm with the throb of my heart, thrilled with my pulse's leap, And every glance of scorn, lashing, pursuing, and stinging, As a look of tenderness would have been wondrous and deep.
Bitter our hatred is, old and strong and unchanging, Twined with the fibres of life, blent with body and soul, But as its bitterness, so might have been our love's sweetness Had it not missed the way­strange missing and sad!­to its goal.


by Lucy Maud Montgomery | |

My Longshore Lass

 Far in the mellow western sky,
Above the restless harbor bar,
A beacon on the coast of night,
Shines out a calm, white evening star;
But your deep eyes, my 'longshore lass,
Are brighter, clearer far.
The glory of the sunset past Still gleams upon the water there, But all its splendor cannot match The wind-blown brightness of your hair; Not any sea-maid's floating locks Of gold are half so fair.
The waves are whispering to the sands With murmurs as of elfin glee; But your low laughter, 'longshore lass, Is like a sea-harp's melody, And the vibrant tones of your tender voice Are sweeter far to me.


by Lucy Maud Montgomery | |

Companioned

 I walked to-day, but not alone,
Adown a windy, sea-girt lea,
For memory, spendthrift of her charm,
Peopled the silent lands for me.
The faces of old comradeship In golden youth were round my way, And in the keening wind I heard The songs of many an orient day.
And to me called, from out the pines And woven grasses, voices dear, As if from elfin lips should fall The mimicked tones of yesteryear.
Old laughter echoed o'er the leas And love-lipped dreams the past had kept, From wayside blooms like honeyed bees To company my wanderings crept.
And so I walked, but not alone, Right glad companionship had I, On that gray meadow waste between Dim-litten sea and winnowed sky.


by Lucy Maud Montgomery | |

Twilight

 From vales of dawn hath Day pursued the Night
Who mocking fled, swift-sandalled, to the west,
Nor ever lingered in her wayward flight
With dusk-eyed glance to recompense his quest,
But over crocus hills and meadows gray
Sped fleetly on her way.
Now when the Day, shorn of his failing strength, Hath fallen spent before the sunset bars, The fair, wild Night, with pity touched at length, Crowned with her chaplet of out-blossoming stars, Creeps back repentantly upon her way To kiss the dying Day.


by Lucy Maud Montgomery | |

Two Loves

 One said; "Lo, I would walk hand-clasped with thee
Adown the ways of joy and sunlit slopes
Of earthly song in happiest vagrancy
To pluck the blossom of a thousand hopes.
Let us together drain the wide world's cup With gladness brimméd up!" And one said, "I would pray to go with thee When sorrow claims thee; I would fence thy heart With mine against all anguish; I would be The comforter and healer of thy smart; And I would count it all the wide world's gain To spare or share thy pain!"


by Lucy Maud Montgomery | |

Spring Song

 THE air was full of sun and birds,
The fresh air sparkled clearly.
Remembrance wakened in my heart And I knew I loved her dearly.
The fallows and the leafless trees And all my spirit tingled.
My earliest thought of love, and Spring's First puff of perfume mingled.
In my still heart the thoughts awoke, Came lone by lone together - Say, birds and Sun and Spring, is Love A mere affair of weather?


by Lucy Maud Montgomery | |

In Port

 Last, to the chamber where I lie 
My fearful footsteps patter nigh, 
And come out from the cold and gloom 
Into my warm and cheerful room.
There, safe arrived, we turn about To keep the coming shadows out, And close the happy door at last On all the perils that we past.
Then, when mamma goes by to bed, She shall come in with tip-toe tread, And see me lying warm and fast And in the land of Nod at last.


by Lucy Maud Montgomery | |

In the Days of the Golden Rod

 Across the meadow in brooding shadow
I walk to drink of the autumn's wine­
The charm of story, the artist's glory,
To-day on these silvering hills is mine;
On height, in hollow, where'er I follow,
By mellow hillside and searing sod,
Its plumes uplifting, in light winds drifting,
I see the glimmer of golden-rod.
In this latest comer the vanished summer Has left its sunshine the world to cheer, And bids us remember in late September What beauty mates with the passing year.
The days that are fleetest are still the sweetest, And life is near to the heart of God, And the peace of heaven to earth is given In this wonderful time of the golden-rod.


by Lucy Maud Montgomery | |

Loves Prayer

 Beloved, this the heart I offer thee 
Is purified from old idolatry, 
From outworn hopes, and from the lingering stain 
Of passion's dregs, by penitential pain.
Take thou it, then, and fill it up for me With thine unstinted love, and it shall be An earthy chalice that is made divine By its red draught of sacramental wine.


by Lucy Maud Montgomery | |

Realization

 I smiled with skeptic mocking where they told me you were dead,
You of the airy laughter and lightly twinkling feet;
"They tell a dream that haunted a chill gray dawn," I said,
"Death could not touch or claim a thing so vivid and so sweet!" 

I looked upon you coffined amid your virgin flowers,
But even that white silence could bring me no belief:
"She lies in maiden sleep," I said.
"and in the youngling hours Her sealed dark eyes will open to scorn our foolish grief.
" But when I went at moonrise to our ancient trysting place.
.
.
.
.
And, oh, the wind was keening in the fir-boughs overhead! .
.
.
.
And you came never to me with your little gypsy face, Your lips and hands of welcome, I knew that you were dead!


by Lucy Maud Montgomery | |

To My Enemy

 Let those who will of friendship sing,
And to its guerdon grateful be,
But I a lyric garland bring
To crown thee, O, mine enemy! 

Thanks, endless thanks, to thee I owe
For that my lifelong journey through
Thine honest hate has done for me
What love perchance had failed to do.
I had not scaled such weary heights But that I held thy scorn in fear, And never keenest lure might match The subtle goading of thy sneer.
Thine anger struck from me a fire That purged all dull content away, Our mortal strife to me has been Unflagging spur from day to day.
And thus, while all the world may laud The gifts of love and loyalty, I lay my meed of gratitude Before thy feet, mine enemy!


by Lucy Maud Montgomery | |

The Wind

 O, wind! what saw you in the South,
In lilied meadows fair and far? 
I saw a lover kiss his lass
New-won beneath the evening star.
O, wind! what saw you in the West Of passing sweet that wooed your stay? I saw a mother kneeling by The cradle where her first-born lay.
O, wind! what saw you in the North That you shall dream of evermore? I saw a maiden keeping tryst Upon a gray and haunted shore.
O, wind! what saw you in the East That still of ancient dole you croon? I saw a wan wreck on the waves And a dead face beneath the moon.


by Lucy Maud Montgomery | |

The Wood Pool

 Here is a voice that soundeth low and far
And lyric­voice of wind among the pines,
Where the untroubled, glimmering waters are,
And sunlight seldom shines.
Elusive shadows linger shyly here, And wood-flowers blow, like pale, sweet spirit-bloom, And white, slim birches whisper, mirrored clear In the pool's lucent gloom.
Here Pan might pipe, or wandering dryad kneel To view her loveliness beside the brim, Or laughing wood-nymphs from the byways steal To dance around its rim.
'Tis such a witching spot as might beseem A seeker for young friendship's trysting place, Or lover yielding to the immortal dream Of one beloved face.


by Lucy Maud Montgomery | |

You

 You came – 
determined, 
because I was large,
because I was roaring,
but on close inspection
you saw a mere boy.
You seized and snatched away my heart and began to play with it – like a girl with a bouncing ball.
And before this miracle every woman was either a lady astounded or a maiden inquiring: “Love such a fellow? Why, he'll pounce on you! She must be a lion tamer, a girl from the zoo!” But I was triumphant.
I didn’t feel it – the yoke! Oblivious with joy, I jumped and leapt about, a bride-happy redskin, I felt so elated and light.
Transcribed: by Mitch Abidor.


by Lucy Maud Montgomery | |

The Seeker

 I sought for my happiness over the world,
Oh, eager and far was my quest;
I sought it on mountain and desert and sea,
I asked it of east and of west.
I sought it in beautiful cities of men, On shores that were sunny and blue, And laughter and lyric and pleasure were mine In palaces wondrous to view; Oh, the world gave me much to my plea and my prayer But never I found aught of happiness there! Then I took my way back to a valley of old And a little brown house by a rill, Where the winds piped all day in the sentinel firs That guarded the crest of the hill; I went by the path that my childhood had known Through the bracken and up by the glen, And I paused at the gate of the garden to drink The scent of sweet-briar again; The homelight shone out through the dusk as of yore And happiness waited for me at the door!


by Lucy Maud Montgomery | |

While the Fates Sleep

 Come, let us to the sunways of the west,
Hasten, while crystal dews the rose-cups fill,
Let us dream dreams again in our blithe quest
O'er whispering wold and hill.
Castles of air yon wimpling valleys keep Where milk-white mist steals from the purpling sea, They shall be ours in the moon's wizardry, While the fates, wearied, sleep.
The viewless spirit of the wind will sing In the soft starshine by the reedy mere, The elfin harps of hemlock boughs will ring Fitfully far and near; The fields will yield their trove of spice and musk, And balsam from the glens of pine will fall, Till twilight weaves its tangled shadows all In one dim web of dusk.
Let us put tears and memories away, While the fates sleep time stops for revelry; Let us look, speak, and kiss as if no day Has been or yet will be; Let us make friends with laughter 'neath the moon, With music on the immemorial shore, Yea, let us dance as lovers danced of yore­ The fates will waken soon!


by Lucy Maud Montgomery | |

Song of the Sea-Wind

 When the sun sets over the long blue wave
I spring from my couch of rest,
And I hurtle and boom over leagues of foam 
That toss in the weltering west,
I pipe a hymn to the headlands high, 
My comrades forevermore,
And I chase the tricksy curls of foam 
O'er the glimmering sandy shore.
The moon is my friend on clear, white nights When I ripple her silver way, And whistle blithely about the rocks Like an elfin thing at play; But anon I ravin with cloud and mist And wail 'neath a curdled sky, When the reef snarls yon like a questing beast, And the frightened ships go by.
I scatter the dawn across the sea Like wine of amber flung From a crystal goblet all far and fine Where the morning star is hung; I blow from east and I blow from west Wherever my longing be- The wind of the land is a hindered thing But the ocean wind is free!


by Lucy Maud Montgomery | |

Spring Song

 Hark, I hear a robin calling!
List, the wind is from the south! 
And the orchard-bloom is falling
Sweet as kisses on the mouth.
In the dreamy vale of beeches Fair and faint is woven mist, And the river's orient reaches Are the palest amethyst.
Every limpid brook is singing Of the lure of April days; Every piney glen is ringing With the maddest roundelays.
Come and let us seek together Springtime lore of daffodils, Giving to the golden weather Greeting on the sun-warm hills.
Ours shall be the moonrise stealing Through the birches ivory-white; Ours shall be the mystic healing Of the velvet-footed night.
Ours shall be the gypsy winding Of the path with violets blue, Ours at last the wizard finding Of the land where dreams come true.


by Lucy Maud Montgomery | |

The Bridal

 Last night a pale young Moon was wed
Unto the amorous, eager Sea;
Her maiden veil of mist she wore
His kingly purple vesture, he.
With her a bridal train of stars Walked sisterly through shadows dim, And, master minstrel of the world, The great Wind sang the marriage hymn.
Thus came she down the silent sky Unto the Sea her faith to plight, And the grave priest who wedded them Was ancient, sombre-mantled Night.


by Lucy Maud Montgomery | |

The Choice

 Life, come to me in no pale guise and ashen, 
I care not for thee in such placid fashion! 
I would share widely, Life, 
In all thy joy and strife, 
Would sound thy deeps and reach thy highest passion, 
With thy delight and with thy suffering rife.
Whether I bide with thee in cot or palace, I would drink deeply, Life, of thy great chalice, Even to its bitter lees­ Yea, shrinking not from these, Since out of bitterness come strength and solace And wisdom is not won in slumberous ease.
Wan peace, uncolored days, were a poor favor; To lack great pain and love were to lack savor.
Life, take the heart of me And fill it brimmingly, No matter with what poignant brew or flavor, So that it may not shrunk and empty be.
Yea, Life, thus would I live, nor play at living, The best of me for thy best gladly giving, With an unfaltering cheer, Greeting thee year by year, Even in thy dourest mood some good achieving, Until I read thy deep-hid meaning clear.