Rose Aylmers Hair, Given By Her Sister

Beautiful spoils! borne off from vanquishd death!
Upon my hearts high altar shall ye lie,
Movd but by only one adorers breath,
Retaining youth, rewarding constancy.

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

Verse

Walter Savage Landor, Simple Poetry

Ianthes Troubles

Walter Savage Landor, Simple Poetry

Corinna, From Athens, To Tanagra

Walter Savage Landor, Simple Poetry

On Himself

Walter Savage Landor, Simple Poetry

English

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Rose Aylmer

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 of sighs
I consecrate to thee.

Walter Savage Landor

Ah what avails the sceptred race,

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 of sighs
I consecrate to thee.

Walter Savage Landor

With rosy hand a little girl prest down

With rosy hand a little girl prest down
A boss of fresh-cull'd cowslips in a rill:
Often as they sprang up again, a frown
Show'd she disliked resistance to her will:
But when they droopt their heads and shone much less,
She shook them to and fro, and threw them by,
And tript away. 'Ye loathe the heaviness
Ye love to cause, my little girls!' thought I,
'And what had shone for you, by you must die.'

Walter Savage Landor

The Three Roses

When the buds began to burst,
Long ago, with Rose the First
I was walking; joyous then
Far above all other men,
Till before us up there stood
Britonferry's oaken wood,
Whispering, "Happy as thou art,
Happiness and thou must part."
Many summers have gone by
Since a Second Rose and I
(Rose from the same stem) have told
This and other tales of old.
She upon her wedding day
Carried home my tenderest lay:
From her lap I now have heard
Gleeful, chirping, Rose the Third.
Not for her this hand of mine
Rhyme with nuptial wreath shall twine;
Cold and torpid it must lie,
Mute the tongue, and closed the eye.

Walter Savage Landor

Cowslips

With rosy hand a little girl pressd down
A boss of fresh-culld cowslips in a rill:
Often as they sprang up again, a frown
Showd she dislikd resistance to her will:
But when they droopd their heads and shone much less,
She shook them to and fro, and threw them by,
And trippd away. Ye loathe the heaviness
Ye love to cause, my little girls! thought I,
And what has shone for you, by you must die!

Walter Savage Landor

Fair Rosamond

When as King Henry rulde this land,
The second of that name,
Besides the queene, he dearly lovde
A faire and comely dame.

Most peerlesse was her beautye founde,
Her favour, and her face;
A sweeter creature in this worlde
Could never prince embrace.

Her crisped lockes like threads of golde,
Appeard to each man's sight;
Her sparkling eyes, like Orient pearles,
Did cast a heavenlye light.

The blood within her crystal cheekes
Did such a colour drive,
As though the lillye and the rose
For mastership did strive.

Yea Rosamonde, fair Rosamonde,
Her name was called so,
To whom our queene, Dame Ellinor,
Was known a deadlye foe.

The king therefore, for her defence
Against the furious queene,
At Woodstocke builde...

George Wharton Edwards

Rose Aylmers Hair, Given By Her Sister

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Rose Aylmers Hair, Given By Her Sister