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.

(C) Walter Savage Landor
01/01/2000


Best Poems of Walter Savage Landor

• A Railroad Eclogue
• To Charles Dickens
• Aeschylos And Sophocles
• Yes; I Write Verses Now And Then,
• Why, Why Repine
• On His Seventy-fifth Birthday
• Overture
• Thrasymedes And Eunoe
• Do You Remember Me? Or Are You Proud?
• Corinna, From Athens, To Tanagra
• To Youth
• Myrtis
• The Evening Star
• Aletheia To Phraortes
• Lines To A Dragon Fly
• On Music
• Theron And Zoe
• Acon And Rhodope