Verses Why Burnt

How many verses have I thrown
Into the fire because the one
Peculiar word, the wanted most,
Was irrecoverably lost!

Walter Savage Landor

Walter Savage Landor was an English writer, poet, and dramatist. He is best known for his prose work, the 'Imaginary Conversations,' but also wrote numerous poems and plays. Landor had a tempestuous character and often found himself in conflict with authorities and contemporaries. Despite his combative nature, he was highly regarded by other literary figures such as Charles Dickens and Robert Browning. His works reflect his classical education and strong individualism.

Walter Savage Landor

Here, ever since you went abroad,

Walter Savage Landor, Simple Poetry

To Wordsworth

Walter Savage Landor, Simple Poetry

Man

Walter Savage Landor, Simple Poetry

Once, and once only, have I seen thy face,

Walter Savage Landor, Simple Poetry

English

Suggested Poems

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But Most Thy Light

I know how fire burns,
How from the wrangling fumes
Rose and amber blooms,
And slowly dies.

Nothing's so swift as fire,
There's nothing alive so fierce.
The lifted lances pierce,
Sink, and upspring.

Like an Indian sword it leaps
Out of the smoking sheath.
Even the winged feet of death
Learn speed from fire;

And pain its cunning learns;
Languor its sweet
From the decaying heat
That never dies.

I know how fire burns
Unguessed, save for tears,
When the thousand-fanged flame spears
The body's guard;

Or when the mind, the mind
Is ever-glowing wood,
And fire runs in the blood
Lunatic, blind;

When remorse burns and burns
And burns always, always--
The fire that surest slays
Or ...

John Frederick Freeman

Tell me not things past all belief;

Tell me not things past all belief;
One truth in you I prove;
The flame of anger, bright and brief,
Sharpens the barb of Love.

Walter Savage Landor

Why, Why Repine

Why, why repine, my pensive friend,
At pleasures slipp'd away?
Some the stern Fates will never lend,
And all refuse to stay.

I see the rainbow in the sky,
The dew upon the grass,
I see them, and I ask not why
They glimmer or they pass.

With folded arms I linger not
To call them back; 'twere vain;
In this, or in some other spot,
I know they'll shine again.

Walter Savage Landor

On Himself

I strove with none, for none was worth my strife;
Nature I lovd, and next to Nature, Art;
I warmd both hands before the fire of life;
It sinks, and I am ready to depart.

Walter Savage Landor

Verses - Written Under The Portrait Of Fergusson, The Poet, In A Copy Of That Author's Works Presented To A Young Lady.

    Curse on ungrateful man, that can be pleas'd,
    And yet can starve the author of the pleasure!
    O thou my elder brother in misfortune,
    By far my elder brother in the muses,
    With tears I pity thy unhappy fate!
    Why is the bard unpitied by the world,
    Yet has so keen a relish of its pleasures?

Robert Burns

Sir John Oldcastle, Lord Cobham

My friend should meet me somewhere hereabout
To take me to that hiding in the hills.

I have broke their cage, no gilded one, I trow
I read no more the prisoners mute wail
Scribbled or carved upon the pitiless stone;
I find hard rocks, hard life, hard cheer, or none,
For I am emptier than a friars brains;
But God is with me in this wilderness,
These wet black passes and foam-churning chasms
And Gods free air, and hope of better things.

I would I knew their speech; not now to glean,
Not nowI hope to do itsome scatterd ears,
Some ears for Christ in this wild field of Wales
But, bread, merely for bread. This tongue that waggd
They said with such heretical arrogance
Against the proud archbishop Arundel
So much Gods cause was fluent in itis ...

Alfred Lord Tennyson