William Watson (Уильям Уотсон)
* * *
Thy voice from inmost dreamland calls; The wastes of sleep thou makest fair; Bright o'er the ridge of darkness falls The cataract of thy hair. The morn renews its golden birth: Thou with the vanquished night dost fade; And leav'st the ponderable earth Less real than thy shade.
William Watson’s other poems: