Ianthes Troubles

Your pleasures spring like daisies in the grass,
Cut down and up again as blithe as ever;
From you, Ianthe, little troubles pass
Like little ripples in a sunny river.

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

The Chrysolites And Rubies Bacchus Brings

Walter Savage Landor, Simple Poetry

I Entreat You, Alfred Tennyson

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The Poet Who Sleeps

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On Living Too Long

Walter Savage Landor, Simple Poetry

English

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Ianthe

From you, Ianthe, little troubles pass
Like little ripples down a sunny river;
Your pleasures spring like daisies in the grass,
Cut down, and up again as blithe as ever.

Walter Savage Landor

Ianthe! You Are Call'd To Cross The Sea

Ianthe! you are call'd to cross the sea!
A path forbidden me!
Remember, while the Sun his blessing sheds
Upon the mountain-heads,
How often we have watcht him laying down
His brow, and dropt our own
Against each other's, and how faint and short
And sliding the support!
What will succeed it now? Mine is unblest,
Ianthe! nor will rest
But on the very thought that swells with pain.
O bid me hope again!
O give me back what Earth, what (without you)
Not Heaven itself can do,
One of the golden days that we have past,
And let it be my last!
Or else the gift would be, however sweet,
Fragile and incomplete.

Walter Savage Landor

Ianthe's Question

Do you remember me? or are you proud?
Lightly advancing thro her star-trimmd crowd,
Ianthe said, and lookd into my eyes.
A yes, a yes to both: for Memory
Where you but once have been must ever be,
And at your voice Pride from his throne must rise.

Walter Savage Landor

Soon, O Lanthe! Life Is O'er

Soon, O Ianthe! life is o'er,
And sooner beauty's heavenly smile:
Grant only (and I ask no more),
Let love remain that little while.

Walter Savage Landor

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,
I find the laurel also bears a thorn.

Walter Savage Landor

Pleasure! why thus desert the heart

Pleasure! why thus desert the heart
In its spring-tide?
I could have seen her, I could part,
And but have sigh'd!

O'er every youthful charm to stray,
To gaze, to touch....
Pleasure! why take so much away,
Or give so much?

Walter Savage Landor

Ianthes Troubles

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Ianthes Troubles