 | The Poems of Sir William Watson |  |
ELUSION
Where shall I find thee, Joy? by what great marge
With the strong seas exulting? on what peaks
Rapt? or astray within what forest bourn,
Among the tangled and dim silences,
Thy light hands parting the resilient boughs?
With the strong seas exulting? on what peaks
Rapt? or astray within what forest bourn,
Among the tangled and dim silences,
Thy light hands parting the resilient boughs?
Hast thou no answer? ... Nay, except thou spring
In mine own heart uncalled, though I go forth
And tease the waves for news of thee, and make
Importunate inquisition of the woods
If thou didst pass that way, I shall but find
The brief print of thy footfall on sere leaves
Or the salt brink, and woo thy touch in vain.
In mine own heart uncalled, though I go forth
And tease the waves for news of thee, and make
Importunate inquisition of the woods
If thou didst pass that way, I shall but find
The brief print of thy footfall on sere leaves
Or the salt brink, and woo thy touch in vain.
1897
| The Poems of Sir William Watson | |