Who is Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon

Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon (January 12, 1829 – September 20, 1879), born Rosanna Eleanor Mullins, was a Canadian writer and poet. She was "one of the first English-Canadian writers to depict French Canada in a way that earned the praise of, and resulted in her novels being read by, both anglophone and francophone Canadians."

Life

Leprohon was born on January 12, 1829, in Montreal to Francis and Rosanna Mullins. The second daughter of a wealthy merchant, she was educated at the Convent of the Congregation of Notre Dame. She later wrote the poems "A Touching Ceremony" and "On the Death of the Same Reverend Nun" to honor the nuns and convent.She "published her first poetry, at age 17, in Literary Garland, followed by serialized novels of manners set in England, publis...
Read Full Biography of Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon


Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon Poems

Read All Poems


Top 10 most used topics by Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon

Bright 88 Earth 76 Sweet 67 Heart 60 High 57 Soft 55 Long 52 I Love You 46 Love 46 Gentle 45


Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon Quotes

Read All Quotes


Comments about Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon

Plastic_bio: ...the wild flowers blooming in hushed solitudestart not at the whispering, 'tis but the breeze - rosanna eleanor leprohon
Plastic_bio: thy soft-breathed hopes with magic mighthave chased from my soul the shades of night - rosanna eleanor leprohon
Plastic_bio: how hushed and still are earth and air,how lanquid 'neath the sun's firece ray-drooping and faint flowers fair,on this hot, sultry, summer day! - rosanna eleanor leprohon
Venetiajane: "a few short months of snow and storm, of winter's chilling reign, and summer, with smiles and glances warm, will g...
Read All Comments


Write your comment about Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon


Poem of the day

Edgar Albert Guest Poem
The Killing Place
 by Edgar Albert Guest

We're hiking along at a two-forty pace
We 're making life seem like a man-killing race,
With our nerves all on edge and our jaws firmly set
We go rushing along; with our brows lined with sweat
And our cheeks pale and drawn every minute we dash,
And the goal that we 're after is merely more cash.

We 're out for the money, the greenbacks and gold,
...

Read complete poem

Popular Poets