Poem by Walter Savage Landor

* * *

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. Well I Remember How You Smiled
4. Dirce
5. Child of a Day

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