The Snow which Blows - Canadian Identity poem

The Snow which Blows

The snow blows through the streets of the city
You fly through the air as twisted spirals of melting steal
despite their cold feel.
Weak enough to touch yet Hard enough to kill.
Warm enough for use yet Cold enough to destroy.
Snow what a wonderful yet schizophrenic element.
The duality of your wonders don't seize to amaze those who see.
For you are the only true free.
Today the snow flys away only to come back one fine winter's day.

AMBITION - Allan, Peter John (1825-1848)

AMBITION

Allan, Peter John (1825-1848)

WHO says that power is bliss?  The glory
Bought by a million's blood for one
To reign, to die, yet live in story--
The greatest murderer 'neath the sun!
Who envies such a fate?  The madness
That weaves of straw the fancied crown
Is happier in its frantic gladness,
Than he upon his couch of down.
Ambition's vulture gnaws not ever.
The monarch's soul may sometimes start
From dreams, whose wizard spell to sever
Were harder than with life to part.
What memories must then awaken
Of justice scorned in guilty pride?
How must the conqueror's heart be shaken
In wasting passion's lava tide!
That swift convulsion of the spirit,
So brief, so fierce, yet soon forgot,
Ambition's sons must all inherit.
'Tis Satan's, and 'twas Xerxes' lot.