Alaric Alexander Watts Poems

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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;—

A Christmas Song

The present moment's all our own,
The next, who ever saw! ~ Mickle.

Come, fill me up a brimming cup,

Invocation To The Echo Of A Sea-Shell

Murmurings from within
Were heard, sonorous cadences, whereby
To his belief the monitor expressed

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;

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,


Oh, burst the bonds of slumber,
Beloved, awake, ari ...


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!

Napoleon's Dream

It was the dead midnight;
No star was in the sky;
The struggling moon shed a troubled light
As she won her way on high;

On Revisiting A Scene Of Early Life

It is the same clear dazzling scene,
Perhaps the grass is scarce as green;
Perhaps the river's troubled voice,

A Dream, Written After The Author's Recovery From Illness

O! it is pleasant, with a heart at ease,
Just after sunset, or by moonlight skies,
To make the shifting clouds be what you please. ~

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