William Watson (poet)

"And, though circuitous and obscure, The feet of Nemesis how sure!"

"April, April, Laugh thy girlish laughter; Then, the moment after, Weep thy girlish tears!"

"Man looks at his own bliss, considers it, Weighs it with curious fingers; and tis gone."

"The Poet gathers fruit from every tree, Yea, grapes from thorns and figs from thistles he. Pluckd by his hand, the basest weed that grows Towers to a lily, reddens to a rose."

"God, by the earlier sceptic, was exiled; The later is more lenient grown and mild: He sanctions God, provided you agree To any other name for deity."

"Flower-fondled, claspd in ivys close caress, It seems with Nature, yet apart."

"To keep in sight Perfection, and adore The vision, is the artists best delight; His bitterest pang, that he can neer do more Than keep her longd-for loveliness in sight."

"His friends he loved. His fellest earthly foes— Cats—I believe he did but feign to hate. My hand will miss the insinuated nose, Mine eyes the tail that waggd contempt at Fate."

"Earth is less fragrant now, and heaven more sweet."

"Best they honour thee Who honour in thee only what is best."

"In this house with starry dome, Floored with gemlike plains and seas, Shall I never feel at home, Never wholly be at ease?On from room to room I stray, Yet mine Host can ne’er espy, And I know not to this day Whether guest or captive I."

"O ye by wandering tempest sown Neath every alien star, Forget not whence the breath was blown That wafted you afar! For ye are still her ancient seed On younger soil let fall— Children of Britain’s island-breed, To whom the Mother in her need Perchance may one day call."