Proud Word You Never Spoke
Proud word you never spoke, but you will speak
Four not exempt from pride some future day.
Resting on one white hand a warm wet cheek,
Over my open volume you will say,
‘This man loved me‘—then rise and trip away.
More poems by Walter Savage Landor
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Rose Aylmer
Ah, what avails the sceptred race!
Ah, what the form divine!
What every virtue, every grace! … -
Alciphron and Leucippe
an ancient chestnut's blossoms threw
Their heavy odour over two:
Leucippe, it is said, was one; … -
Art Criticism
First bring me Raffael, who alone hath seen
In all her purity heaven’s virgin queen,
Alone hath felt true beauty; bring me then … -
Autumn
Mild is the parting year, and sweet
The odour of the falling spray;
Life passes on more rudely fleet, …