William Watson

(1858-1935 / England)

William Watson Poems

1. To Health (From The Greek) 11/23/2015
2. When Birds Were Songless 4/10/2010
3. Lines (With A Volume Of The Author's Poems Sent To M.R.C.) 4/10/2010
4. Prelude 4/10/2010
5. Thomas Hood 4/10/2010
6. To Lord Tennyson 4/10/2010
7. The Turk In Armenia 5/7/2011
8. The Soudanese 4/10/2010
9. The Ballad Of The 'Britain's Pride' 4/10/2010
10. Mensis Lacrimarum 4/10/2010
11. The Glimpse 4/10/2010
12. In Laleham Churchyard 4/10/2010
13. The Princes' Quest - Part The Tenth 4/10/2010
14. Shelley's Centenary 4/10/2010
15. Skyfaring 4/10/2010
16. The Princes' Quest - Part The Second 4/10/2010
17. Lines To Our New Censor 4/10/2010
18. On Landor's 'Hellenics' 4/10/2010
19. To Edward Dowden: On Receiving From Him A Copy Of 'The Life Of Shelley' 4/10/2010
20. Three Eternities 4/10/2010
21. The Questioner 4/10/2010
22. To A Friend: Chafing At Enforced Idleness From Interrupted Health 4/10/2010
23. Vanishings 4/10/2010
24. The Russ At Kara 4/10/2010
25. To James Bromley With 'Wordsworth's Grave' 4/10/2010
26. Thy Voice From Inmost Dreamland Calls 4/10/2010
27. The Princes Quest - Part The Sixth 4/10/2010
28. Reluctant Summer 4/10/2010
29. On Exaggerated Deference To Foreign Literary Opinion 4/10/2010
30. Ode In May 1/4/2003
31. Three Flowers 4/10/2010
32. Ireland 4/10/2010
33. Liberty Rejected 4/10/2010
34. Our Men 4/10/2010
35. Sketch Of A Political Character 4/10/2010
36. Lachrymæ Musarum 4/10/2010
37. The Sovereign Poet 4/10/2010
38. The River 4/10/2010
39. Well He Slumbers, Greatly Slain 4/10/2010
40. The Princes' Quest - Part The Ninth 4/10/2010
Best Poem of William Watson

April

April, April,
Laugh thy girlish laughter;
Then, the moment after,
Weep thy girlish tears!
April, that mine ears
Like a lover greetest,
If I tell thee, sweetest,
All my hopes and fears,
April, April,
Laugh thy golden laughter,
But, the moment after,
Weep thy golden tears!

Read the full of April

The Great Misgiving

'NOT ours,' say some, 'the thought of death to dread;
   Asking no heaven, we fear no fabled hell:
Life is a feast, and we have banqueted--
   Shall not the worms as well?

'The after-silence, when the feast is o'er,
   And void the places where the minstrels stood,
Differs in nought from what hath been before,
   And is nor ill nor good.'

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