Description
"From a hitherto undiscovered manuscript book now in the possession of her father, Arthur C. Pickthall of Toronto, are chosen by Lorne Pierce and printed for a few friends."
From "The Naiad, and five other poems":
Winter
MY heart's grown empty that was filled
With such wild grace as summers yield,
With gold the early gorse had spilled
And lovely tares from every field.
Bare is my heart. O star, O light,
From your strange state of lonely air,
Lest my poor heart hold but the night,
Let one lost gleam inhabit there.
Featuring artwork by Sophia Erdahl.
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