Verses Why Burnt
HOW many verses have I thrown
Into the fire because the one
Peculiar word, the wanted most,
Was irrecoverably lost!
poem by Walter Savage Landor
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One Lovely Name
One lovely name adorns my song,
And, dwelling in the heart,
Forever falters at the tongue,
And trembles to depart.
poem by Walter Savage Landor
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A Thought
BLYTHE bell, that calls to bridal halls,
Tolls deep a darker day;
The very shower that feeds the flower
Weeps also its decay.
poem by Walter Savage Landor
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Dirce
Stand close around, ye Stygian set,
With Dirce in one boat conveyed,
Or Charon, seeing, may forget
That he is old and she a shade.
poem by Walter Savage Landor
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Soon, O Ianthe! life is o'er
Soon, O Ianthe! life is o'er,
And sooner beauty's heavenly smile:
Grant only (and I ask no more),
Let love remain that little while.
poem by Walter Savage Landor
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Last Lines
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.
poem by Walter Savage Landor
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A Critic
With much ado you fail to tell
The requisites for writing well;
But, what bad writing is, you quite
Have proved by every line you write.
poem by Walter Savage Landor
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Death Stands Above Me, Whispering Low
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.
poem by Walter Savage Landor
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Heartsease
THERE is a flower I wish to wear,
But not until first worn by you—
Heartsease—of all earth’s flowers most rare;
Bring it; and bring enough for two.
poem by Walter Savage Landor
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Ianthe’s Troubles
YOUR pleasures spring like daisies in the grass,
Cut down and up again as blithe as ever;
From you, Ianthe, little troubles pass
Like little ripples in a sunny river.
poem by Walter Savage Landor
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