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Walter Savage Landor (Уолтер Сэвидж Лэндор)


To Robert Browning


There is delight in singing, tho' none hear
Beside the singer: and there is delight
In praising, tho' the praiser sit alone
And see the prais'd far off him, far above.
Shakespeare is not our poet, but the world's,
Therefore on him no speech! and brief for thee,
Browning! Since Chaucer was alive and hale,
No man hath walkt along our roads with step
So active, so inquiring eye, or tongue
So varied in discourse. But warmer climes
Give brighter plumage, stronger wing: the breeze
Of Alpine highths thou playest with, borne on
Beyond Sorrento and Amalfi, where
The Siren waits thee, singing song for song.



Walter Savage Landor's other poems:
  1. Various the Roads of Life; in One
  2. Daniel Defoe
  3. Pleasure! Why Thus Desert the Heart
  4. Past Ruin'd Ilion Helen Lives
  5. The Gates of Fame and of the Grave


Poems of another poets with the same name (Стихотворения других поэтов с таким же названием):

  • Thomas Talfourd (Томас Талфорд) To Robert Browning ("A mighty sorrow gathers while the eye")

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