Death stands above me, whispering low
…I know not what into my ear:
Of his strange language all I know
…Is, there is not a word of fear.
Posted in I-L, Poems of Other Poets, ReligiousInspirational, tagged bard on the hill, Death Stands Above Me, no fear, not a word of fear, nothing to fear, poems, poetry, strange language, Walter Savage Landor on September 7, 2017| Leave a Comment »
Death stands above me, whispering low
…I know not what into my ear:
Of his strange language all I know
…Is, there is not a word of fear.
Posted in I-L, Poems of Other Poets, tagged calm hair meandering in pellucid gold, high for adoration, now dust, On Seeing A Hair Of Lucretia Borgia, poems, poetry, too august, Walter Savage Landor on May 10, 2017| Leave a Comment »
Borgia, thou once wert almost too august
And high for adoration; now thou’rt dust;
All that remains of thee these plaits unfold,
Calm hair, meandering in pellucid gold.
Posted in I-L, Poems of Other Poets, tagged all were thine, bard on the hill, consecrate to thee, every virtue, form divine, grace, night of memories and sighs, poems, poetry, Rose Aylmer, Walter Savage Landor on August 2, 2016| Leave a Comment »
Ah, what avails the sceptred race,
…Ah, what the form divine!
What every virtue, every grace!
…Rose Aylmer, all were thine.
Rose Aylmer, whom these wakeful eyes
…May weep, but never see,
A night of memories and of sighs
…I consecrate to thee.
——————————–
This quote is in An Anthology of Famous English and American Poetry
about the poem: “It was inspired by news of the death in India of Rose,
the daughter of Henry, Baron Aylmer, who had been Landor’s devoted
friend during the poet’s early years in Wales.”
Posted in I-L, Poems of Other Poets, tagged all other men may use deceit, bard on the hill, he always said my eyes were blue, lovesick, meter, Mother I Cannot Mind My Wheel, poems, poetry, rhymed, rhythm, Walter Savage Landor, who ever felt as I on January 5, 2015| Leave a Comment »
Mother, I cannot mind my wheel;
…My fingers ache, my lips are dry:
Oh! if you felt the pain I feel!
…But oh, who ever felt as I!
No longer could I doubt him true,
…All other men may use deceit;
He always said my eyes were blue,
…And often swore my lips were sweet.
Posted in I-L, Poems of Other Poets, tagged bard on the hill, Dying Speech of an Old Philosopher, fire of life, last words, poems, poetry, Walter Savage Landor on April 15, 2013| 4 Comments »
Dying Speech Of An Old Philosopher
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.
—————————————————–
photo by Jasper Greek Lao Golangco at http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/myzKAnq/fire
Posted in I-L, Poems of Other Poets, tagged bard on the hill, epigrams, largest heart is soonest broken, no true word, poems, poetry, time sprinkles Lethe's water, Walter Savage Landor on February 19, 2013| Leave a Comment »
No Truer Word
No truer word, save God’s, was ever spoken,
Than that the largest heart is soonest broken.
—————————————————–
On Every Human Thing
On love, on grief, on every human thing,
Time sprinkles Lethe’s water with his wing.
—————————————————–
*Lethe’s water – “afterworld river of forgetfulness”