Archibald Lampman was born on November 17th 1861 at Morpeth, Ontario in Canada. Perhaps the finest Canadian Poet of his time he is classed as a Confederation Poet. A lover of camping it inspired much of his verse and helped him to become known as The Canadian Keats. Most of his poems are about the Countryside and the natural world. He wrote in excess of 300 poems and all reveal and revel in his observations of life and landscape. But his life was destined to be cut short. His health deteriorated, due in part to the death of his second son and his earlier problems caused by rheumatic fever. On February 10th, 1899 Archibald Lampman died of a weak heart, an after-effect of his childhood rheumatic fever in Ottawa at the age of only 37. He is buried at Beechwood Cemetery, in Ottawa, His grave is marked by a single word on his headstone "Lampman.". A nearby plaque cites his poem "In November": The hills grow wintry white, and bleak winds moan About the naked uplands. I alone Am neither sad, nor shelterless, nor gray Wrapped round with thought, content to watch and dream. In this volume, the third of three, we include Lyrics Of Earth and many other favourites.
Archibald Lampman was born on November 17th 1861 at Morpeth, Ontario in Canada. Perhaps the finest Canadian Poet of his time he is classed as a Confederation Poet. A lover of camping it inspired much of his verse and helped him to become known as The Canadian Keats. Most of his poems are about the Countryside and the natural world. He wrote in excess of 300 poems and all reveal and revel in his observations of life and landscape. But his life was destined to be cut short. His health deteriorated, due in part to the death of his second son and his earlier problems caused by rheumatic fever. On February 10th, 1899 Archibald Lampman died of a weak heart, an after-effect of his childhood rheumatic fever in Ottawa at the age of only 37. He is buried at Beechwood Cemetery, in Ottawa, His grave is marked by a single word on his headstone "Lampman.". A nearby plaque cites his poem "In November": The hills grow wintry white, and bleak winds moan About the naked uplands. I alone Am neither sad, nor shelterless, nor gray Wrapped round with thought, content to watch and dream. In this volume, the third of three, we include Lyrics Of Earth and many other favourites.