Walter Savage Landor quotes

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Death stands above me, whispering low
I know not what into my ear;
O what a thing is age! Death without death's quiet.
I warmed both hands before the fire of life;
It sinks, and I am ready to depart.
I have since written what no tide
Shall ever wash away, what men
From you, Ianthe, little troubles pass
Like little ripples down a sunny river;
Verse calls them forth; 'tis verse that gives
Immortal youth to mortal maids.
Prose on certain occasions can bear a great deal of poetry; on the other hand, poetry sinks and swoons under a moderate weight of ...
And about her courts were seen
Liveried angels robed in green,
My slumber broken and my doublet torn,
I find the laurel also bears a thorn.
Lately our poets loiter'd in green lanes,
Content to catch the ballads of the plains;
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