Rose Aylmer Poem by Walter Savage Landor
Rose Aylmer
Rating: ★2.8
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 sighs
I consecrate to thee.
Friday, January 3, 2003
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4/25/2024 10:15:24 AM # 1.0.0.1119
beautiful as usual....