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| Charles Gagnon Painting for a Funeral Parlor 1962 oil and collage on canvas National Gallery of Canada, Ottawa |
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| Charles Gagnon Tablets 1959 oil on canvas National Gallery of Canada, Ottawa |
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| Charles Gagnon Greenwich Village 1966 gelatin silver print National Gallery of Canada, Ottawa |
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| Charles Gagnon Maine 1965 gelatin silver print National Gallery of Canada, Ottawa |
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| Otto Försterling Singing Bird above Elbe Landscape 1877 oil on board Städtische Galerie, Dresden |
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| Otto Försterling Bad Elster, Saxony ca. 1890 watercolor on paper (print study) Kupferstichkabinett, Staatliche Kunstsammlungen, Dresden |
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| Otto Försterling Anacreon 1870 etching and engraving British Museum |
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| Otto Försterling Valley in Saxon Switzerland 1888 oil on canvas private collection |
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| Sorel Etrog Untitled ca. 1970 intaglio print Dallas Museum of Art |
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| Sorel Etrog Personage ca. 1965-75 bronze St Peter's College, Oxford |
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| Sorel Etrog Untitled 1969 lithograph Agnes Etherington Art Centre, Kingston, Ontario |
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| Sorel Etrog Great Bird 1974 lithograph Agnes Etherington Art Centre, Kingston, Ontario |
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| Carol Hoorn Fraser The New Winter Grave 1962 oil on canvas Beaverbrook Art Gallery, Fredericton, New Brunswick |
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| Carol Hoorn Fraser The New Winter Grave 1963 ink and oil paint on paper Beaverbrook Art Gallery, Fredericton, New Brunswick |
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| Carol Hoorn Fraser The New Winter Grave 1963 ink and oil paint on paper Beaverbrook Art Gallery, Fredericton, New Brunswick |
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| Carol Hoorn Fraser The Garden 1973 oil on linen Beaverbrook Art Gallery, Fredericton, New Brunswick |
The Drowned Children
You see, they have no judgment.
So it is natural that they should drown,
first the ice taking them in
and then, all winter, their wool scarves
floating behind them as they sink
until at last they are quiet.
And the pond lifts them in its manifold dark arms.
But death must come to them differently,
so close to the beginning.
As though they had always been
blind and weightless. Therefore
the rest is dreamed, the lamp,
the good white cloth that covered the table,
their bodies.
And yet they hear the names they used
like lures slipping over the pond:
What are you waiting for
come home, come home, lost
in the waters, blue and permanent.
– Louise Glück (1980)