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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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CCXII. TO MY DAUGHTER IN ITALY, AT CHRISTMAS.

Where is, ah where! the citron bloom
That threw its fragrance o'er my room?
Where, white magnolia-cup entwined
With pliant myrtle's ruddy rind?
Julia, with you the flowers are gay,
And cluster round the shortest day
Little at Fiesole ye know
186

Of holly, less of mistleto;
Such as the Druid priest of yore
To grim god-monsters grimly bore.
Run: from her pouting infants call
The musk-rose at our chapel-wall;
Run, bring the violets up, that blow
Along the banks of Africo;
And tell them, every soul, they must
Bend their coy heads and kiss my bust.
Christmas is come: on such a day
Give the best thoughts fair room for play,
And all the Sabbath dance and sing
In honour of your new-born king.
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