William Watson

(FEBRUARY 1888)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,
Curse or revile me, and hold me abhorred—…

(WITH A VOLUME OF VERSE)Master and mage, our prince of song, whom Time,
In this your autumn mellow and serene,
Crowns ever with fresh laurels, nor less green
Than garlands dewy from your verdurous prime;…

Seabird, elemental sprite,
Moulded of the sun and spray—
Raven, dreary flake of night
Drifting in the eye of day—…

Behold life builded as a goodly house
And grown a mansion ruinous
With winter blowing through its crumbling walls!
The master paceth up and down his halls,…

Thy voice from inmost dreamland calls;
The wastes of sleep thou makest fair;
Bright o'er the ridge of darkness falls
The cataract of thy hair.The morn renews its golden birth:…

(1885)There is a race of men, who master life,
Their victory being inversely as their strife;
Who capture by refraining from pursuit;
Shake not the bough, yet load their hands with fruit;…

SHE stands, a thousand-wintered tree,
By countless morns impearled;
Her broad roots coil beneath the sea,
Her branches sweep the world;…

LET me go forth, and share
The overflowing Sun
With one wise friend, or one
Better than wise, being fair,…

When birds were songless on the bough
I heard thee sing.
The world was full of winter, thou
Wert full of spring.To-day the world's heart feels anew…

What! and shall we, with such submissive airs
As age demands in reverence from the young,
Await these crumbs of praise from Europe flung,
And doubt of our own greatness till it bears…

A letter from abroad. I tear
Its sheathing open, unaware
What treasure gleams within; and there—
Like bird from cage—…

Five-and-thirty black slaves,
Half-a-hundred white,
All their duty but to sing
For their Queen's delight,…

She was a lady great and splendid,
I was a minstrel in her halls.
A warrior like a prince attended
Stayed his steed by the castle walls.Far had he fared to gaze upon her.…

Scentless flow'rs I bring thee—yet
In thy bosom be they set;
In thy bosom each one grows
Fragrant beyond any rose.Sweet enough were she who could,…

IThe old rude church, with bare, bald tower, is here;
Beneath its shadow high-born Rotha flows;
Rotha, remembering well who slumbers near,
And with cool murmur lulling his reposeRotha, remembering well who slumbers near.…

Nay, bid me not my cares to leave,
Who cannot from their shadow flee.
I do but win a short reprieve,
'Scaping to pleasure and to thee.I may, at best, a moment's grace,…

Come hither, who grow cloyed to surfeiting
With lyric draughts o'ersweet, from rills that rise
On Hybla not Parnassus mountain: come
With beakers rinsed of the dulcifluous wave…

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,…

Often ornateness
Goes with greatness;
Oftener felicity
Comes of simplicity.Talent that's cheapest…

Under the dark and piny steep
We watched the storm crash by:
We saw the bright brand leap and leap
Out of the shattered sky.The elements were minist'ring…

Had I the fabled herb
That brought to life the dead,
Whom would I dare disturb
In his eternal bed?…

O King of kings, that watching from Thy throne
Sufferest the monster of Ust-Kara's hold,
With bosom than Siberia's wastes more cold,
And hear'st the wail of captives crushed and prone,…

(AUGUST 18, 1890)'Twas at this season, year by year,
The singer who lies songless here
Was wont to woo a less austere,
Less deep repose,…

A beckoning spirit of gladness seemed afloat,
That lightly danced in laughing air before us:
The earth was all in tune, and you a note
Of Nature's happy chorus.'Twas like a vernal morn, yet overhead…