Poem by William Watson

* * *

Well he slumbers, greatly slain,
  Who in splendid battle dies;
Deep his sleep in midmost main
  Pillowed upon pearl who lies.

Ease, of all good gifts the best,
  War and wave at last decree:
Love alone denies us rest,
  Crueller than sword or sea.

1. To a Friend
2. On Exaggerated Deference to Foreign Literary Opinion
3. And These - Are These Indeed the End
4. World-Strangeness
5. The Key-Board

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