On Living Too Long
IS it not better at an early hour
In its calm cell to rest the weary head,
While birds are singing and while blooms the bower,
Than sit the fire out and go starv’d to bed?
poem by Walter Savage Landor
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Finis
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.
poem by Walter Savage Landor
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We must not indulge in unfavorable views of mankind, since by doing it we make bad men believe they are no worse than others, and we teach the good that they are good in vain.
quote by Walter Savage Landor
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God Scatters Beauty
God scatters beauty as he scatters flowers
O'er the wide earth, and tells us all are ours.
A hundred lights in every temple burn,
And at each shrine I bend my knee in turn.
poem by Walter Savage Landor
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On Himself
I STROVE with none, for none was worth my strife;
Nature I lov’d, and next to Nature, Art;
I warm’d both hands before the fire of life;
It sinks, and I am ready to depart.
poem by Walter Savage Landor
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To Sleep
COME, Sleep! but mind ye! if you come without
The little girl that struck me at the rout,
By Jove! I would not give you half-a-crown
For all your poppy-heads and all your down.
poem by Walter Savage Landor
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On His Eightieth Birthday
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.
poem by Walter Savage Landor
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On Catullus
Tell me not what too well I know
About the bard of Sirmio.
Yes, in Thalia’s son
Such stains there are—as when a Grace
Sprinkles another’s laughing face
With nectar, and runs on.
poem by Walter Savage Landor
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Heat and animosity, contest and conflict, may sharpen the wits, although they rarely do; they never strengthen the understanding, clear the perspicacity, guide the judgment, or improve the heart.
quote by Walter Savage Landor
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The Georges
George the First was always reckoned
Vile, but viler George the Second;
And what mortal ever heard
Any good of George the Third?
When from earth the Fourth descended
(God be praised!) the Georges ended.
poem by Walter Savage Landor
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