Susie Frances Harrison (1859-1935)

See biographical information and notes at A Celebration of Women Writers.

Texts below from A Century of Canadian Sonnets.



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March

With outstretched whirring wings of van-dyked jet,
Two crows one day o'er house and pavement pass'd.
Swift silhouettes limned 'gainst the blue, they glass'd
Smooth beak and ebon feather in the wet
Of gaping pool and gutter, while, beset
By nestward longing, high their hoarse cry cast
In the face of fickle sun and treacherous blast,
Till all the City smelt of violet.
Then through that City quick the news did run.
Great wheels were slacken'd; belts were stopped in mill,
And fires in forges. Long ere set of sun
Dazed men, pale women sought the open hill--
They throng'd the streets. They caught the clarion cry--
"Spring has come back--trust Spring to never die!"

To the God Opportunity

Strange, that no idol hath been roughly wrought,
Or fairly carven, bearing on its base
A name so potent! Strange, no ancient race,
Workers in whitest Parian, ever sought
To reproduce thy beauty, slyly fraught
With vast suggestion! Strange, thou couldst not brace
The dull Assyrian, didst not tempt from chase,
Trophy and battle, the sons of literal thought.
We who are tired of gods must yet to thee
Render allegiance. Chance and Love are blind,
And Cause is soulless, Art is deaf and vain,
All unavailing looms the God of Pain.
Disclaiming these, we choose with prescient mind
The unknown God of Opportunity.