Alaric Alexander Watts
Biography of Alaric Alexander Watts
Alaric Alexander Watts (16 March 1797 - 5 April 1864), British poet and journalist, born in London. His life was dedicated to newspaper creation and edition and was seen as a conservative writer. Such a life led him to bankruptcy until a pension was awarded to him by a friend, Lord Aberdeen.
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Alaric Alexander Watts Poems
On The Death Of A Child
A cloud is on my heart and brow, The tears are in my eyes, And wishes fond, all idle now, Are stifled into sighs;—
Invocation To The Echo Of A Sea-Shell
Murmurings from within Were heard, sonorous cadences, whereby To his belief the monitor expressed
A Christmas Song
The present moment's all our own, The next, who ever saw! ~ Mickle. Come, fill me up a brimming cup,
Mysterious keeper of the key That opes the gates of Memory, Oft, in thy wildest, simplest strain, We live o'er years of bliss again!
Oh, burst the bonds of slumber, Beloved, awake, ari ...
Meet Me At Sunset
Meet me at sunset, the hour we love best, Ere day's last crimson blushes have died in the west; When the shadowless ether is blue as thine eye,
I'Ve Roamed The Wide World Over,
I've roamed the wide world over, From Indus to the Pole; I've been a general lover, And loved with all my soul;
Stranger! if from the crowded walks of life Thou lovest to stray, and woo fair Solitude Amid her woodland bowers;—silent to brood,
I Will Never Love Thee More
I will never love thee more, Though I loved thee once so well; Why, a prodigal, the store
Egypt Unvisited. Suggested By Mr. Robert...
The poetry of earth is fading fast; It hath no region it can call its own; The dim, religious light of old that cast
HE left his home with a bounding heart, For the world was all before him; And he felt it scarce a pain to part,
A Woman's Last Song. - From An Unpublish...
'Tis now that softening hour When love hath deepest power, To stir the fond heart with its dreams of delight; When even the sickening thrill
A Remonstrance, Addressed To A Friend Wh...
Oh! say not thou art all alone Upon this wide, cold-hearted earth; Sigh not o'er joys for ever flown,
A Remonstrance To The Poet Campbell, On ...
Dear Poet of Hope! who hast charmed us so long With thy strains of home-music, sweet, solemn, and strong;
HE left his home with a bounding heart,
For the world was all before him;
And he felt it scarce a pain to part,
Such sun-bright beams came o'er him.
He turned him to visions of future years,
The rainbow's hues were around them;
And a father's bodings - a mother's tears -
Might not weigh with the hopes, that crowned them.