William Watson Quotes

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.

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.

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

God on His throne is
Eldest of poets:
Unto His measures
Moveth the Whole.

Flower-fondled, clasp'd in ivy's close caress,
It seems with Nature, yet apart.

Deemest thou, labour
Only is earnest?
Grave is all beauty,
Solemn is joy.

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

To keep in sight Perfection, and adore
The vision, is the artist's best delight;
His bitterest pang, that he can ne'er do more
Than keep her long'd-for loveliness in sight.

Sea that breakest for ever, that breakest and never art broken.

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.

The votes of veering crowds are not
The things that are more excellent.

Earth is less fragrant now, and heaven more sweet.

The thirst to know and understand—
A large and liberal discontent:
These are the goods in life's rich hand,
The things that are more excellent.

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 wagg'd contempt at Fate.

Hate and mistrust are the children of blindness.