William Watson Poems

Dawn - and a magical stillness: on earth, quiescence profound;
On the waters a vast Content, as of hunger appeased and stayed;
...

In the night, in the night,
When thou liest alone,
Ah, the sounds that are blown
In the freaks of the breeze,
...

Few friends are mine, though many wights there be
Who, meeting oft a phantasm that makes claim
To be myself, and hath my face and name,
...

From his adventurous prime
He dreamed the dream sublime:
Over his wandering youth
...

Spouse whom my sword in the olden time won me,
Winning me hatred more sharp than a sword--
Mother of children who hiss at or shun me,
...

O Master, if immortals suffer aught
Of sadness like to ours, and in like sighs
And with like overflow of darkened eyes
...

City that waitest to be sung,--
For whom no hand
To mighty strains the lyre hath strung
In all this land,
...

And these-are these indeed the end,
This grinning skull, this heavy loam?
Do all green ways whereby we wend
Lead but to yon ignoble home?
...

God-seeking thou hast journeyed far and nigh.
On dawn-lit mountain-tops thy soul did yearn
To hear His trailing garments wander by;
...

I

The old rude church, with bare, bald tower, is here;
Beneath its shadow high-born Rotha flows;
...