Walter Savage Landor
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.
| About the poet |
|
| By the same poet |
| The Maid's Lament |
| Rose Aylmer |
| Ianthe |
| Twenty Years hence |
| Verse |
| Proud Word you never spoke |
| Resignation |
| Mother, I cannot mind my Wheel |
| Autumn |
| Remain! |
| Absence |
| Of Clementina |
| Ianthe's Question |
| On Catullus |
| Dirce |
| Alciphron and Leucippe |
| Years |
| Separation |
| Late Leaves |
| Related books |
| Walter Savage Landor at amazon.co.uk |
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