Walter Savage Landor

Thou breathing dial! since thy day beganThe present hour was ever mark’d with shade!

Remember, while the Sun his blessing shedsUpon the mountain-heads,How often we have watcht him laying downHis brow, and dropt our ownAgainst each other’s, and how faint and shortAnd sliding the support!What will succeed it now? Mine is unblest,Ianthe! nor will restBut on the very thought that swells with pain.O bid me hope again!O give me…

No longer talk’d of by young menAs rather clever;In the last quarter are my eyes,You see it by their form and size;Is it not time then to be wise?Or now or never.Fairest that ever sprang from Eve!While Time allows the short reprieve,Just look at me! would you believe’T was once a lover?I cannot clear the…

To bear me from my native landAnd Zoë’s wild farewell.From billow upon billow hurl’dI can yet hear her say,`And is there nothing in the worldWorth one short hour’s delay?’`Alas, my Zoë! were it thus,I should not sail alone,Nor seas nor fates had parted us,But are you all my own?’Thus were it, never would burst forthMy…

Still yours from others they shall knowTwenty years hence.Twenty years hence though it may hapThat I be called to take a napIn a cool cell where thunderclapWas never heard,There breathe but o’er my arch of grassA not too sadly sighed Alas,And I shall catch, ere you can pass,That winged word.

Since first before me fell those tearsI never could see fall alone.Years, not so many, are to come,Years not so varied, when from youOne more will fall: when, carried home,I see it not, nor hear Adieu.

I warm’d both hands before the fire of life;It sinks, and I am ready to depart.

Death, tho’ I see him not, is nearAnd grudges me my eightieth year.Now, I would give him all these lastFor one that fifty have run past.Ah! he strikes all things, all alike,But bargains: those he will not strike.

Thus question’d a thief in the dock:‘Didst never hear readIn the church, lump of lead!Loose chip from the devil’s own block!‘Thou shalt not steal?” ‘Yea,’The white chap did say,”Thou shalt not:’ but thou was the word.Had he piped out ‘Jem Hewitt!Be sure you don’t do it,’I’d ha’ thought of it twice ere I did it,…

Were arguing with Pentheusa: she had heardReport of Creon’s death, whom years beforeShe listen’d to, well-pleas’d; and sighs arose;For sighs full often fondle with reproofsAnd will be fondled by them. When I cameAfter the rest to visit her, she said,“Myrtis! how kind! Who better knows than thouThe pangs of love? and my first love was…