Poem by William Watson

* * *

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
    The vernal thrill,
And thine beneath the rueful yew
    Is wintry chill.

1. The Key-Board
2. Art Maxims
3. History
4. And These - Are These Indeed the End
5. World-Strangeness

Print

1429 Views

Last Poems

To Russian version