Walter Savage Landor (Уолтер Сэвидж Лэндор)

* * *

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?

1. Twenty Years Hence My Eyes May Grow
2. With Rosy Hand a Little Girl Prest Down
3. Yes; I Write Verses Now and Then
4. Well I Remember How You Smiled
5. The Poet Who Sleeps

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