Alaric Alexander Watts
Alaric Alexander Watts Poems
Comments about Alaric Alexander Watts
On The Death Of A Child
Sweet flower! with flowers I strew thy narrow bed!
Sweets to the sweet! Farewell! ~ Shakespeare.
A cloud is on my heart and brow,
The tears are in my eyes,
And wishes fond, all idle now,
Are stifled into sighs;—
As musing on thine early doom,
Thou bud of beauty snatched to bloom,
So soon, 'neath milder skies,
I turn, thy painful struggle past,
From what thou art to what thou wast!
I think of all thy winning ways,
Thy frank but boisterous glee,
Thy arch, sweet smiles, thy coy delays,
Thy step, so light and free;
Thy sparkling ...
A Christmas Song
The present moment's all our own,
The next, who ever saw! ~ Mickle.
Come, fill me up a brimming cup,
We'll season wine with wit and song;
For earthly joy, without alloy,
Not often comes, nor tarries long:
Unthrift it were, to look for Care,
No need hath he Time's wings to borrow;