Poem by Walter Savage Landor

The Evening Star

Smiles soon abate; the boisterous throes
  Of anger long burst forth;
Inconstantly the south-wind blows,
  But steadily the north.

Thy star, O Venus! often changes
  Its radiant seat above,
The chilling pole-star never ranges --
  'Tis thus with Hate and Love.

1. Tell Me Not Things Past All Belief
2. Idle Words
3. Twenty Years Hence My Eyes May Grow
4. Various the Roads of Life; in One
5. She I Love

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