Walter Savage Landor

(30 January 1775 – 17 September 1864 / Warwick)

Walter Savage Landor Poems

1. Age 5/14/2015
2. She I Love (Alas in Vain!) 5/28/2015
3. Little Aglaë 4/16/2010
4. Hyperbion 4/16/2010
5. In After Time 4/16/2010
6. I Wander O'Er The Sandy Heath 4/16/2010
7. Lines To A Dragon Fly 4/16/2010
8. Overture 4/16/2010
9. To Sleep 4/16/2010
10. Last Lines 4/16/2010
11. Macaulay 4/16/2010
12. Verses Why Burnt 4/16/2010
13. Wrinkles 4/16/2010
14. On The Death Of M. D’ossoli And His Wife Margaret Fuller 4/16/2010
15. Plays 4/16/2010
16. How To Read Me 4/16/2010
17. Man 4/16/2010
18. To Youth 4/16/2010
19. Judge And Thief 4/16/2010
20. Soon, O Ianthe! Life Is O'Er 1/3/2003
21. Shakespeare And Milton 4/16/2010
22. The Hamadryad 4/16/2010
23. Theron And Zoe 4/16/2010
24. To A Cyclamen 4/16/2010
25. Thrasymedes And Eunoe 4/16/2010
26. There Falls With Every Wedding Chime 4/16/2010
27. For An Epitaph At Fiesole 4/16/2010
28. Farewell To Italy 4/16/2010
29. The Appeal 4/16/2010
30. On Lady Charles Beauclerc's Death 4/16/2010
31. The Test 4/16/2010
32. Ianthe! You Are Call'D To Cross The Sea! 1/3/2003
33. From “myrtis” 4/16/2010
34. To Ianthe 4/16/2010
35. On Music 4/16/2010
36. The Chrysolites And Rubies Bacchus Brings 1/3/2003
37. On The Conflagration Of The Po 4/16/2010
38. On The Descent Into Hell Of Ezzelino Di Napoli 4/16/2010
39. Myrtis 4/16/2010
40. On Lucretia Borgia’s Hair 4/16/2010
Best Poem of Walter Savage Landor

You Smiled, You Spoke, And I Believed

You smiled, you spoke, and I believed,
By every word and smile deceived.
Another man would hope no more;
Nor hope I what I hoped before:
But let not this last wish be vain;
Deceive, deceive me once again!

Read the full of You Smiled, You Spoke, And I Believed

Lately Our Poets

Lately our poets loiter'd in green lanes,
Content to catch the ballads of the plains;
I fancied I had strength enough to climb
A loftier station at no distant time,
And might securely from intrusion doze
Upon the flowers thro' which Ilissus flows.
In those pale olive grounds all voices cease,
And from afar dust fills the paths of Greece.
My sluber broken and my doublet torn,

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