Poems by Walter Savage Landor

They say that every idle word
Is numbered by the Omniscient Lord.
O Parliament! ’ tis wel...

Along this coast I led the vacant Hours
To the lone sunshine on the uneven strand,
And nipt th...

As round the parting ray the busy motes
In eddying circles play'd,
Some little bird threw dull...

Beloved the last! Beloved the most!
With willing arms and brow benign
Receive a bosom tempest-t...

The burden of an ancient rhyme
Is, "By the forelocks seize on Time."
Time in some corner heard...

Few will acknowledge what they owe
To persecuted, brave Defoe.
Achilles, in Homeric song,
M...

Death stands above me, whispering low
I know not what into my ear:
Of his strange language al...

I leave thee, beauteous Italy! No more
From the high terraces, at eventide,
To look supine i...

Fate! I have askt few things of thee,
And fewer have to ask.
Shortly, thou knowest, I shall ...

Here, where precipitate Spring, with one light bound
Into hot Summer’ s lusty arms, exp...

From yonder wool-mark blue-eyed Eve proceed:
First thro' the deep and warm and secret glens,
...

Here, ever since you went abroad,
If there be change, no change I see,
I only walk our wont...

Ianthe! You are call’ d to cross the sea!
A path forbidden me!
Remember, while the Sun h...

I cannot tell, not I, why she
Awhile so gracious, now should be
So grave: I cannot tell you ...

I come to visit thee again,
My little flowerless cyclamen!
To touch the hands, almost to pres...