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Skyfaring Skyfaring

Skyfaring
Drifting through vacant spaces vast of sleep,One overtook me like a flying starAnd whirled me onward in his glistering car.From shade to shade the winged steeds did leap,And clomb the midnight like a mountain-steep;Till that vague world where men and women are,Ev'n as a rushlight down the gulfs afar,Paled and went out, upswallowed of the deep.Then I to that ethereal charioteer:"O whither through the vastness are we bound?O bear me back to yonder blinded sphere!"Therewith I heard the ends of night resound;And, wakened by ten thousand echoes, foundThat far-off planet lying all-too near.(The end)William Watson's poem: Skyfaring... Poems - Post by : elion - Date : December 2010 - Author : William Watson - Read : 3599

God-seeking God-seeking

God-seeking
God-seeking thou hast journeyed far and nigh.On dawn-lit mountain-tops thy soul did yearnTo hear His trailing garments wander by;And where 'mid thunderous glooms great sunsets burn,Vainly thou sought'st His shadow on sea and sky;Or gazing up, at noontide, could'st discernOnly a neutral heaven's indifferent eyeAnd countenance austerely taciturn.Yet whom thou soughtest I have found at last;Neither where tempest dims the world belowNor where the westering daylight reels aghastIn conflagrations of red overthrow:But where this virgin brooklet silvers past,And yellowing either bank the king-cups blow.(The end)William Watson's poem: God-Seeking... Poems - Post by : DrRich - Date : December 2010 - Author : William Watson - Read : 1783

Beethoven Beethoven

Beethoven
O Master, if immortals suffer aughtOf sadness like to ours, and in like sighsAnd with like overflow of darkened eyesDisburden them, I know not; but methought,What time to day mine ear the utterance caughtWhereby in manifold melodious wiseThy heart's unrestful infelicitiesRose like a sea with easeless winds distraught,That thine seemed angel's grieving, as of oneStrayed somewhere out of heaven, and utteringLone moan and alien wail: because he hathFailed to remember the remounting path,And singing, weeping, can but weep and singEver, through vasts forgotten of the sun.(The end)William Watson's poem: Beethoven... Poems - Post by : Detlev_Reimer - Date : December 2010 - Author : William Watson - Read : 1084

Vanishings Vanishings

Vanishings
As one whose eyes have watched the stricken daySwoon to its crimson death adown the sea,Turning his face to eastward suddenlySees a lack-lustre world all chill and gray,--Then, wandering sunless whitherso he may,Feels the first dubious dumb obscurity,And vague foregloomings of the Dark to be,Close like a sadness round his glimmering way;So I, from drifting dreambound on and onAbout strange isles of utter bliss, in seasWhose waves are unimagined melodies,Rose and beheld the dreamless world anew:Sad were the fields, and dim with splendours goneThe strait sky-glimpses fugitive and few.(The end)William Watson's poem: Vanishings... Poems - Post by : martindemadrid - Date : December 2010 - Author : William Watson - Read : 1293

Love Outloved Love Outloved

Love Outloved
I Love cometh and love goeth, And he is wise who knoweth Whither and whence love flies: But wise and yet more wiseAre they that heed not whence he flies or whitherWho hither speeds to-day, to-morrow thither;Like to the wind that as it listeth blows,And man doth hear the sound thereof, but knowsNor whence it comes nor whither yet it goes.IIO sweet my sometime loved and worshipt one A day thou gavest meThat rose full-orbed in starlike happinessAnd lit our heaven that other stars had none:--Sole as that westering sphere companionless When twilight is begunAnd the dead sun transfigureth the sea:... Poems - Post by : BKMiller - Date : December 2010 - Author : William Watson - Read : 1259

Three Eternities Three Eternities

Three Eternities
Lo, thou and I, my love,And the sad stars above,--Thou and I, I and thou!Ah could we lie as nowEver and aye, my love,Hand within hand, my love,Heart within heart, my dove, Through night and day For ever!Lo, thou and I, my love,Up in the sky above,Where the sun makes his homeAnd the gods are, my love,One day may wander fromStar unto star, my love,--Soul within soul, my love, Yonder afar For ever!Lo, thou and I, my love,Some time shall lie, my love,Knowing not night from day,Knowing not toil from rest,--Breast unto breast, my love,Even as now for aye:Clay within clay,... Poems - Post by : forunme - Date : December 2010 - Author : William Watson - Read : 2182

Three Flowers Three Flowers

Three Flowers
I made a little song about the rose And sang it for the rose to hear,Nor ever marked until the music's close A lily that was listening near.The red red rose flushed redder with delight, And like a queen her head she raised.The white white lily blanched a paler white, For anger that she was not praised.Turning I left the rose unto her pride, The lily to her enviousness,And soon upon the grassy ground espied A daisy all companionless.Doubtless no flattered flower is this, I deemed; And not so graciously it grewAs rose or lily: but methought it seemed More thankful... Poems - Post by : boniellos - Date : December 2010 - Author : William Watson - Read : 1068

Love's Astrology Love's Astrology

Love's Astrology
I know not if they erred Who thought to seeThe tale of all the times to be, Star-character'd; I know not, neither care, If fools or knaves they were. But this I know: last night On me there shone_Two stars_ that made all stars look wan And shamed quite, Wherefrom the soul of me Divined her destiny.(The end)William Watson's poem: Love's Astrology... Poems - Post by : wisebiz - Date : December 2010 - Author : William Watson - Read : 1160

A Song Of Three Singers A Song Of Three Singers

A Song Of Three Singers
I Wave and wind and willow-treeSpeak a speech that no man knoweth;Tree that sigheth, wind that bloweth, Wave that floweth to the sea: Wave and wind and willow-tree. Peerless perfect poets ye,Singing songs all songs excelling,Fine as crystal music dwelling In a welling fountain free: Peerless perfect poets three!II Wave and wind and willow-treeKnow not aught of poets' rhyming,Yet they make a silver-chiming Sunward-climbing minstrelsy, Soother than all songs that be. Blows the wind it knows not why,Flows the wave it knows not whither,And the willow swayeth hither Swayeth thither witlessly, Nothing knowing save to sigh.(The end)William Watson's poem: Song Of... Poems - Post by : John_Pawlett - Date : December 2010 - Author : William Watson - Read : 950

A Sunset A Sunset

A Sunset
Westward a league the city lay, with oneCloud's imminent umbrage o'er it: when behold, The incendiary sun Dropped from the womb o' the vapour, rolled'Mongst huddled towers and temples, 'twixt them setInfinite ardour of candescent gold, Encompassed minaret And terrace and marmoreal spireWith conflagration: roofs enfurnaced, yetUnmolten,--columns and cupolas flanked with fire, Yet standing unconsumed Of the fierce fervency,--and higherThan all, their fringes goldenly illumed,Dishevelled clouds, like massed empurpled smoke From smouldering forges fumed: Till suddenly the bright spell brokeWith the sun sinking through some palace-floorAnd vanishing wholly. Then the city woke, Her mighty Fire-Dream o'er, As who from out a... Poems - Post by : suewilks - Date : December 2010 - Author : William Watson - Read : 772

Changed Voices Changed Voices

Changed Voices
Last night the seawind was to meA metaphor of liberty, And every wave along the beachA starlit music seemed to be.To-day the seawind is to meA fettered soul that would be free, And dumbly striving after speechThe tides yearn landward painfully.To-morrow how shall sound for meThe changing voice of wind and sea? What tidings shall be borne of each?What rumour of what mystery?(The end)William Watson's poem: Changed Voices... Poems - Post by : cyberlife - Date : December 2010 - Author : William Watson - Read : 1332

The Questioner The Questioner

The Questioner
I asked of heaven and earth and sea,Saying: "O wondrous trinity,Deign to make answer unto me,And tell me truly what ye be."And they made answer: "Verily,The mask before His face are we,Because 'tis writ no man can seeHis face and live;"--so spake the three.Then I: "O wondrous trinity,A mask is but a mockery--Make answer yet again to meAnd tell if aught besides are ye."And they made answer: "Verily,The robe around His form are we,That sick and sore mortalityMay touch its hem and healed be."Then I: "O wondrous trinity,Vouchsafe once more to answer me,And tell me truly, what is HeWhose very mask... Poems - Post by : ausmm - Date : December 2010 - Author : William Watson - Read : 2715

The Prince's Quest The Prince's Quest

The Prince's Quest
PART THE FIRST There was a time, it passeth me to sayHow long ago, but sure 'twas many a dayBefore the world had gotten her such storeOf foolish wisdom as she hath,--beforeShe fell to waxing gray with weight of yearsAnd knowledge, bitter knowledge, bought with tears,--When it did seem as if the feet of timeMoved to the music of a golden rhyme,And never one false thread might woven beAthwart that web of worldwide melody.'Twas then there lived a certain queen and king,Unvext of wars or other evil thing,Within a spacious palace builded high,Whence they might see their chiefest city lieAbout them,... Poems - Post by : Richard_Cuss - Date : December 2010 - Author : William Watson - Read : 3135

'the Foresters' "the Foresters"

'the Foresters'
(Lines written on the appearance of Lord Tennyson's drama.)Clear as of old the great voice rings to-day,While Sherwood's oak-leaves twine with Aldworth's bay:The voice of him the master and the sireOf one whole age and legion of the lyre,Who sang his morning-song when Coleridge stillUttered dark oracles from Highgate Hill,And with new-launched argosies of rhymeGilds and makes brave this sombreing tide of time.Far be the hour when lesser brows shall wearThe laurel glorious from that wintry hair--When he, the sovereign of our lyric day,In Charon's shallop must be rowed away,And hear, scarce heeding, 'mid the plash of oar,The _ave atque vale_... Poems - Post by : imported_n/a - Date : December 2010 - Author : William Watson - Read : 2346

The Fugitive Ideal The Fugitive Ideal

The Fugitive Ideal
As some most pure and noble face, Seen in the thronged and hurrying street,Sheds o'er the world a sudden grace, A flying odour sweet,Then, passing, leaves the cheated senseBaulked with a phantom excellence;So, on our soul the visions rise Of that fair life we never led:They flash a splendour past our eyes, We start, and they are fled:They pass, and leave us with blank gaze,Resigned to our ignoble days.(The end)William Watson's poem: Fugitive Ideal... Poems - Post by : thehypnotist - Date : December 2010 - Author : William Watson - Read : 3310

England My Mother England My Mother

England My Mother
IEngland my mother,Wardress of waters.Builder of peoples, Maker of men,--Hast thou yet leisureLeft for the muses?Heed'st thou the songsmith Forging the rhyme?Deafened with tumults,How canst thou hearken?Strident is faction, Demos is loud.Lazarus, hungry,Menaces Dives;Labour the giant Chafes in his hold.Yet do the songsmithsQuit not their forges;Still on life's anvil Forge they the rhyme.Still the rapt facesGlow from the furnace:Breath of the smithy Scorches their brows.Yea, and thou hear'st them?So shall the hammersFashion not vainly Verses of gold.IILo, with the ancientRoots of man's nature,Twines the eternal Passion of song.Ever Love fans it,Ever Life feeds it,Time cannot age it; Death cannot slay.Deep in... Poems - Post by : rcgroup - Date : December 2010 - Author : William Watson - Read : 2675

'the Things That Are More Excellent' "the Things That Are More Excellent"

'the Things That Are More Excellent'
As we wax older on this earth, Till many a toy that charmed us seemsEmptied of beauty, stripped of worth, And mean as dust and dead as dreams,--For gauds that perished, shows that passed, Some recompense the Fates have sent:Thrice lovelier shine the things that last, The things that are more excellent.Tired of the Senate's barren brawl, An hour with silence we prefer,Where statelier rise the woods than all Yon towers of talk at Westminster.Let this man prate and that man plot, On fame or place or title bent:The votes of veering crowds are not The things that are more excellent.Shall... Poems - Post by : Phil_Graham - Date : December 2010 - Author : William Watson - Read : 1169

The Great Misgiving The Great Misgiving

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."Ah, but the Apparition--the dumb sign-- The beckoning finger bidding me foregoThe fellowship, the converse, and the wine, The songs, the festal glow!And ah, to know not, while with friends I sit, And while the purple joy is passed about,Whether 'tis ampler day divinelier... Poems - Post by : aarolove - Date : December 2010 - Author : William Watson - Read : 2247

Reluctant Summer Reluctant Summer

Reluctant Summer
Reluctant Summer! once, a maid Full easy of access,In many a bee-frequented shade Thou didst thy lover bless.Divinely unreproved I played, Then, with each liberal tress--And art thou grown at last afraid Of some too close caress?Or deem'st that if thou shouldst abide My passion might decay?Thou leav'st me pining and denied, Coyly thou say'st me nay.Ev'n as I woo thee to my side, Thou, importuned to stay,Like Orpheus' half-recovered bride Ebb'st from my arms away.(The end)William Watson's poem: Reluctant Summer... Poems - Post by : venkata - Date : December 2010 - Author : William Watson - Read : 2021

Lines To Our New Censor Lines To Our New Censor

Lines To Our New Censor
(Mr. Oscar Wilde, having discovered that England is unworthy of him, has announced his resolve to become a naturalised Frenchman.)And wilt thou, Oscar, from us flee, And must we, henceforth, wholly sever?Shall thy laborious _jeux-d'esprit_ Sadden our lives no more for ever?And all thy future wilt thou link With that brave land to which thou goest?Unhappy France! we _used_ to think She touched, at Sedan, fortune's lowest.And you're made French as easily As you might change the clothes you're wearing?Fancy!--and 'tis so hard to be A man of sense and modest bearing.May fortitude beneath this blow Fail not the gallant Gallic... Poems - Post by : jpetillo - Date : December 2010 - Author : William Watson - Read : 1153