Quote #3
The after-silence, when the feast is o'er, And void the places where the minstrels stood, Differs in nought from what hath been before, And is nor ill nor good.
More from William Watson
- O ye by wandering tempest sown 'Neath every alien star, Forget not whence the breath was blown That wafted you afar! For ye are still her a…
- Hate and mistrust are the children of blindness-
- April, April, Laugh thy girlish laughter; Then, the moment after, Weep thy girlish tears!
- Best they honor thee Who honor in thee only what is best.
- And though circuitous and obscure The feet of Nemesis how sure!
- Braying of arrogant brass, whimper of querulous reeds.
- Deemest thou labor Only is earnest? Grave is all beauty, Solemn is joy.
- Empires dissolve and peoples disappear, Song passes not away.