Walter Savage Landor Poems

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by Landor, Walter Savage

 The Year's twelve daughters had in turn gone by,
Of measured pace tho' varying mien all twelve,
Some froward, some sedater, some adorn'd
For festival, some reckless of attire.
The snow had left the mountain-top; fresh flowers
Had withered in the meadow; fig and prune
Hung wrinkling; the last apple glow'd amid
Its freckled leaves; and weary oxen blinkt
Between the trodden corn and twisted vine,
Under whose...Read more of this...

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by Landor, Walter Savage

 Whoever has no house now will never have one.
 Whoever is alone will stay alone
 Will sit, read, write long letters through the evening
 And wander on the boulevards, up and down...

 - from Autumn Day, Rainer Maria Rilke


Its stain is everywhere.
The sharpening air
of late afternoon
is now the colour of tea.
Once-glycerined green leaves
burned by a summer sun
are brittle and...Read more of this...

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by Landor, Walter Savage

 Death stands above me, whispering low 
I know not what into my ear:
Of his strange language all I know 
Is, there is not a word of fear....Read more of this...

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by Landor, Walter Savage

 I strove with none, for none was worth my strife:
Nature I loved, and, next to Nature, Art:
I warm'd both hands before the fire of Life;
It sinks; and I am ready to depart....Read more of this...

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by Landor, Walter Savage

 I strove with none, for none was worth my strife.
Nature I loved and, next to Nature, Art:
I warm'd both hands before the fire of life;
It sinks, and I am ready to depart....Read more of this...

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by Landor, Walter Savage

 ‘Do you remember me? or are you proud?’
Lightly advancing thro’ her star-trimm’d crowd,
Ianthe said, and look’d into my eyes.
‘A yes, a yes to both: for Memory
Where you but once have been must ever be,
And at your voice Pride from his throne must rise.’...Read more of this...

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by Landor, Walter Savage

 THE leaves are falling; so am I; 
The few late flowers have moisture in the eye; 
 So have I too. 
Scarcely on any bough is heard 
Joyous, or even unjoyous, bird 
 The whole wood through. 

Winter may come: he brings but nigher 
His circle (yearly narrowing) to the fire 
 Where old friends meet. 
Let him; now...Read more of this...

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by Landor, Walter Savage

 Lately our poets loiter'd in green lanes,
Content to catch the ballads of the plains;
I fancied I had strength enough to climb
A loftier station at no distant time,
And might securely from intrusion doze
Upon the flowers thro' which Ilissus flows.
In those pale olive grounds all voices cease,
And from afar dust fills the paths of Greece.
My sluber broken and my doublet torn,
I...Read more of this...

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by Landor, Walter Savage

 MOTHER, I cannot mind my wheel; 
 My fingers ache, my lips are dry: 
O, if you felt the pain I feel! 
 But O, who ever felt as I? 

No longer could I doubt him true-- 
 All other men may use deceit; 
He always said my eyes were blue, 
 And often swore my lips were sweet....Read more of this...

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by Landor, Walter Savage

 To my ninth decade I have tottered on, 
And no soft arm bends now my steps to steady; 
She, who once led me where she would, is gone, 
So when he calls me, Death shall find me ready....Read more of this...

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by Landor, Walter Savage

 I strove with none, for none was worth my strife;
Nature I loved, and next to Nature, Art;
I warmed both hands before the fire of Life;
It sinks, and I am ready to depart....Read more of this...

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by Landor, Walter Savage

 Life (priest and poet say) is but a dream;
I wish no happier one than to be laid
Beneath a cool syringa’s scented shade,
Or wavy willow, by the running stream,
Brimful of moral, where the dragon-fly,
Wanders as careless and content as I.

Thanks for this fancy, insect king,
Of purple crest and filmy wing,
Who with indifference givest up
The water-lily’s golden cup,
To come again and...Read more of this...

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by Landor, Walter Savage

 When the buds began to burst,
Long ago, with Rose the First
I was walking; joyous then
Far above all other men,
Till before us up there stood
Britonferry's oaken wood,
Whispering, "Happy as thou art,
Happiness and thou must part."
Many summers have gone by
Since a Second Rose and I
(Rose from the same stem) have told
This and other tales of old.
She upon her wedding day
Carried home...Read more of this...

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by Landor, Walter Savage

 Welcome, old friend! These many years 
Have we lived door by door; 
The fates have laid aside their shears 
Perhaps for some few more. 

I was indocile at an age 
When better boys were taught, 
But thou at length hast made me sage, 
If I am sage in aught. 

Little I know from other men, 
Too little they know...Read more of this...

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by Landor, Walter Savage

 There is delight in singing, though none hear
Beside the singer; and there is delight
In praising, though the praiser sits alone
And see the praised far off him, far above.
Shakespeare is not our poet, but the world's,
Therefore on him no speech! and brief for thee,
Browning! Since Chaucer was alive and hale
No man hath walked along our roads with step
So active, so...Read more of this...

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by Landor, Walter Savage

 Twenty years hence my eyes may grow
If not quite dim, yet rather so,
Still yours from others they shall know
Twenty years hence.

Twenty years hence though it may hap
That I be called to take a nap
In a cool cell where thunderclap
Was never heard,

There breathe but o'er my arch of grass
A not too sadly sighed Alas,
And I shall catch, ere you can...Read more of this...

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by Landor, Walter Savage

 Very true, the linnets sing 
Sweetest in the leaves of spring: 
You have found in all these leaves 
That which changes and deceives, 
And, to pine by sun or star, 
Left them, false ones as they are. 
But there be who walk beside 
Autumn's, till they all have died, 
And who lend a patient ear 
To low notes from...Read more of this...

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by Landor, Walter Savage

 Well I remember how you smiled
To see me write your name upon
The soft sea-sand . . . "O! what a child!
You think you're writing upon stone!"

I have since written what no tide
Shall ever wash away, what men
Unborn shall read o'er ocean wide
And find Ianthe's name again....Read more of this...

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by Landor, Walter Savage

 Here, ever since you went abroad,
If there be change, no change I see,
I only walk our wonted road,
The road is only walkt by me.

Yes; I forgot; a change there is;
Was it of that you bade me tell?
I catch at times, at times I miss
The sight, the tone, I know so well.

Only two months since you stood here!
Two shortest months!...Read more of this...

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by Landor, Walter Savage

 Mother, I cannot mind my wheel;
My fingers ache, my lips are dry:
Oh! if you felt the pain I feel!
But oh, who ever felt as I?

No longer could I doubt him true;
All other men may use deceit:
He always said my eyes were blue,
And often swore my lips were sweet....Read more of this...

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