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Poem by William Watson


Strange the world about me lies,
  Never yet familiar grown
Still disturbs me with surprise,
  Haunts me like a face half known.

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 my Host can ne'er espy,
And I know not to this day
  Whether guest or captive I.

So, between the starry dome
  And the floor of plains and seas,
I have never felt at home,
  Never wholly been at ease.

William Watson

William Watson's other poems:
  1. A Child's Hair
  2. On Exaggerated Deference to Foreign Literary Opinion
  3. On Landor's Hellenics
  4. Mensis Lacrimarum
  5. To

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