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Poems, Dialogues in Verse and Epigrams

By Walter Savage Landor: Edited with notes by Charles G. Crump
Landor, Walter Savage (1775-1864)

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FIRST VOLUME DRAMATIC SCENES.
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SECOND VOLUME POEMS AND EPIGRAMS.
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GEBIR.
  
FROM THE PHOCÆANS.
  
CHRYSAOR.
  
REGENERATION.
  
TO CORINTH.
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POEMS AND EPIGRAMS CHIEFLY FROM THE COLLECTION OF 1846.
  
[O friends! who have accompanied thus far]
 I. 
I.
 II. 
II.
 III. 
III. WITH PETRARCA'S SONNETS.
 IV. 
IV.
 V. 
V. TWELFTH-NIGHT.
 VI. 
VI.
 VII. 
VII.
 VIII. 
VIII.
 IX. 
IX.
 X. 
X.
 XI. 
XI.
 XII. 
XII.
 XIII. 
XIII.
 XIV. 
XIV.
 XV. 
XV.
 XVI. 
XVI.
 XVII. 
XVII.
 XVIII. 
XVIII.
 XIX. 
XIX.
 XX. 
XX.
 XXI. 
XXI.
 XXII. 
XXII.
 XXIII. 
XXIII.
 XXIV. 
XXIV.
 XXV. 
XXV.
 XXVI. 
XXVI.
 XXVII. 
XXVII.
 XXVIII. 
XXVIII.
 XXIX. 
XXIX.
 XXX. 
XXX.
 XXXI. 
XXXI.
 XXXII. 
XXXII.
 XXXIII. 
XXXIII.
 XXXIV. 
XXXIV.
 XXXV. 
XXXV.
 XXXVI. 
XXXVI.
 XXXVII. 
XXXVII.
 XXXVIII. 
XXXVIII.
 XXXIX. 
XXXIX.
 XL. 
XL.
 XLI. 
XLI.
 XLII. 
XLII. IANTHE'S LETTER.
 XLIII. 
XLIII.
 XLIV. 
XLIV.
 XLV. 
XLV.
 XLVI. 
XLVI.
 XLVII. 
XLVII.
 XLVIII. 
XLVIII.
 XLIX. 
XLIX.
 L. 
L.
 LI. 
LI.
 LII. 
LII.
 LIII. 
LIII.
 LIV. 
LIV.
 LV. 
LV. TO LOVE.
 LVI. 
LVI.
 LVII. 
LVII.
 LVIII. 
LVIII.
 LIX. 
LIX.
 LX. 
LX.
 LXI. 
LXI.
 LXII. 
LXII.
 LXIII. 
LXIII.
 LXIV. 
LXIV.
 LXV. 
LXV.
 LXVI. 
LXVI.
 LXVII. 
LXVII.
 LXVIII. 
LXVIII.
 LXIX. 
LXIX.
 LXX. 
LXX. THE PROGRESS OF EVENING.
 LXXI. 
LXXI.
 LXXII. 
LXXII.
 LXXIII. 
LXXIII.
 LXXIV. 
LXXIV. WRITTEN IN WALES.
 LXXV. 
LXXV.
 LXXVI. 
LXXVI.
 LXXVII. 
LXXVII.
 LXXVIII. 
LXXVIII. FOR AN URN IN THORESBY PARK.
 LXXIX. 
LXXIX. ON READING IN A NEWSPAPER THE DEATH OF A MOTHER AND THREE CHILDREN.
 LXXX. 
LXXX.
 LXXXI. 
LXXXI.
 LXXXII. 
LXXXII. ON A POET IN A WELSH CHURCHYARD.
 LXXXIII. 
LXXXIII.
 LXXXIV. 
LXXXIV.
 LXXXV. 
LXXXV.
 LXXXVI. 
LXXXVI.
 LXXXVII. 
LXXXVII.
 LXXXVIII. 
LXXXVIII.
 LXXXIX. 
LXXXIX.
 XC. 
XC.
 XCI. 
XCI.
 XCII. 
XCII.
 XCIII. 
XCIII.
 XCIV. 
XCIV.
 XCV. 
XCV.
 XCVI. 
XCVI.
 XCVII. 
XCVII.
 XCVIII. 
XCVIII.
 XCIX. 
XCIX.
 C. 
C.
 CI. 
CI.
 CII. 
CII.
 CIII. 
CIII.
 CIV. 
CIV.
 CV. 
CV.
 CVI. 
CVI. ON RECEIVING A BOOK TO WRITE IN.
 CVII. 
CVII. A SEA-SHELL SPEAKS.
 CVIII. 
CVIII.
 CIX. 
CIX.
 CX. 
CX. ON RECEIVING A PORTRAIT.
 CXI. 
CXI.
 CXII. 
CXII. SENT TO A LADY WITH FLOWERS.
 CXIII. 
CXIII.
 CXIV. 
CXIV. ON HAIR FALLING OFF AFTER AN ILLNESS.
 CXV. 
CXV.
 CXVI. 
CXVI. FAREWELL TO ITALY.
 CXVII. 
CXVII.
 CXVIII. 
CXVIII. TO ONE WHO SAID SHE SHOULD LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT.
 CXIX. 
CXIX. ON AN ECLIPSE OF THE MOON.
 CXX. 
CXX. ON SHAKESPEARE.
 CXXI. 
CXXI.
 CXXII. 
CXXII.
 CXXIII. 
CXXIII.
 CXXIV. 
CXXIV.
 CXXV. 
CXXV. TO LADY CALDWELL.
 CXXVI. 
CXXVI.
 CXXVII. 
CXXVII.
 CXXVIII. 
CXXVIII. CHRISTMAS HOLLY.
 CXXIX. 
CXXIX.
 CXXX. 
CXXX.
 CXXXI. 
CXXXI. FOR THE ALBUM OF THE DUCHESS DE GUICHE.
 CXXXII. 
CXXXII.
 CXXXIII. 
CXXXIII. LINES TO A DRAGON-FLY.
 CXXXIV. 
CXXXIV.
 CXXXV. 
CXXXV.
 CXXXVI. 
CXXXVI.
 CXXXVII. 
CXXXVII.
 CXXXVIII. 
CXXXVIII. TO A SPANIEL.
 CXXXIX. 
CXXXIX.
 CXL. 
CXL. ON SEEING A HAIR OF LUCRETIA BORGIA.
 CXLI. 
CXLI. ON MIGNIONETTE.
 CXLII. 
CXLII.
 CXLIII. 
CXLIII. WRITTEN ON THE RHINE.
 CXLIV. 
CXLIV. MALVOLIO.
 CXLV. 
CXLV. WITH AN ALBUM.
 CXLVI. 
CXLVI.
 CXLVII. 
CXLVII. WRITTEN AT MR RAWSON'S, WAS-WATER LAKE.
 CXLVIII. 
CXLVIII.
 CXLIX. 
CXLIX.
 CL. 
CL.
 CLI. 
CLI.
 CLII. 
CLII.
 CLIII. 
CLIII. ON THE DECEASE OF MRS ROSENHAGEN.
 CLIV. 
CLIV.
 CLV. 
CLV.
 CLVI. 
CLVI.
 CLVII. 
CLVII.
 CLVIII. 
CLVIII.
 CLIX. 
CLIX. THE DEAD MARTEN.
 CLX. 
CLX.
 CLXI. 
CLXI.
 CLXII. 
CLXII.
 CLXIII. 
CLXIII.
 CLXIV. 
CLXIV.
 CLXV. 
CLXV. ON RECEIVING A MONTHLY ROSE.
 CLXVI. 
CLXVI.
 CLXVII. 
CLXVII.
 CLXVIII. 
CLXVIII. TO A LADY ON COMING OF AGE.
 CLXIX. 
CLXIX.
 CLXX. 
CLXX.
 CLXXI. 
CLXXI.
 CLXXII. 
CLXXII. ON A QUAKER'S TANKARD.
 CLXXIII. 
CLXXIII. INVOCATION TO THE MUSE.
 CLXXIV. 
CLXXIV. EPITHALAMIUM.
 CLXXV. 
CLXXV.
 CLXXVI. 
CLXXVI.
 CLXXVII. 
CLXXVII. OLD STYLE.
 CLXXVIII. 
CLXXVIII. SUGGESTED BY HORACE.
 CLXXIX. 
CLXXIX.
 CLXXX. 
CLXXX.
 CLXXXI. 
CLXXXI. COTTAGE LEFT FOR LONDON.
 CLXXXII. 
CLXXXII.
 CLXXXIII. 
CLXXXIII.
 CLXXXIV. 
CLXXXIV.
 CLXXXV. 
CLXXXV. FLOWERS SENT IN BAY-LEAVES.
 CLXXXVI. 
CLXXXVI.
 CLXXXVII. 
CLXXXVII.
 CLXXXVIII. 
CLXXXVIII.
 CLXXXIX. 
CLXXXIX.
 CXC. 
CXC.
 CXCI. 
CXCI.
 CXCII. 
CXCII.
 CXCIII. 
CXCIII.
 CXCIV. 
CXCIV.
 CXCV. 
CXCV. A MASK ON A RING.
 CXCVI. 
CXCVI.
 CXCVII. 
CXCVII.
 CXCVIII. 
CXCVIII.
 CXCIX. 
CXCIX. TO JULIUS HARE, WITH “PERICLES AND ASPASIA.”
 CC. 
CC. TO SOUTHEY.
 CCI. 
CCI. LINES ON THE DEATH OF CHARLES LAMB.
 CCII. 
CCII. TO ANDREW JACKSON.
 CCIII. 
CCIII. TO WORDSWORTH.
 CCIV. 
CCIV. TO THE COMTESSE DE MOLANDE, ABOUT TO MARRY THE DUC DE LUXEMBOURG.
 CCV. 
CCV. TO THE COUNTESS OF BLESSINGTON.
 CCVI. 
CCVI.
 CCVII. 
CCVII. TO LADY CHARLES BEAUCLERK.
 CCVIII. 
CCVIII. TO MY DAUGHTER.
 CCIX. 
CCIX. TO ANDREW CROSSE.
 CCX. 
CCX. TO A LADY.
 CCXI. 
CCXI. TO CZARTORYSKI, ATTENDING ON FOOT THE FUNERAL OF THE POET MENINCIVICZ.
 CCXII. 
CCXII. TO MY DAUGHTER IN ITALY, AT CHRISTMAS.
 CCXIII. 
CCXIII. TO MISS ISABELLA PERCY.
 CCXIV. 
CCXIV. TO CHARLES DICKENS.
 CCXV. 
CCXV. TO SOUTHEY, 1833.
 CCXVI. 
CCXVI. TO BARRY CORNWALL.
 CCXVII. 
CCXVII. TO MAJOR-GENERAL W. NAPIER.
 CCXVIII. 
CCXVIII. TO MATHEW AND WOLFF.
 CCXIX. 
CCXIX. TO JOHN KENYON.
 CCXX. 
CCXX. TO ROBERT BROWNING.
 CCXXI. 
CCXXI. TO THE SISTER OF ELIA.
 CCXXII. 
CCXXII. TO JOSEPH ABLETT.
 CCXXIII. 
CCXXIII. TO EMMA ISOLA.
 CCXXIV. 
CCXXIV. TO A PAINTER.
 CCXXV. 
CCXXV. FOR AN EPITAPH AT FIESOLE.
 CCXXVI. 
CCXXVI. TO A BRIDE, FEB. 17, 1846.
 CCXXVII. 
CCXXVII. TO JOHN FORSTER.
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POEMS FROM PERICLES AND ASPASIA AND OTHER PROSE WORKS.
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FROM THE LAST FRUIT OFF AN OLD TREE.
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FROM DRY STICKS.
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HEROIC IDYLS, WITH ADDITIONAL POEMS.
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FROM THE HELLENICS.

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CXXXIII. LINES TO A DRAGON-FLY.

Life (priest and poet say) is but a dream;
I wish no happier one than to be laid
Beneath a cool syringa's scented shade,
Or wavy willow, by the running stream,
Brimful of moral, where the dragon-fly,
145

Wanders as careless and content as I.
Thanks for this fancy, insect king,
Of purple crest and filmy wing,
Who with indifference givest up
The water-lily's golden cup,
To come again and overlook
What I am writing in my book.
Believe me, most who read the line
Will read with hornier eyes than thine;
And yet their souls shall live for ever,
And thine drop dead into the river!
God pardon them, O insect king,
Who fancy so unjust a thing!
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