Poem by Walter Savage Landor

Of Clementina

In Clementina's artless mien
  Lucilla asks me what I see,
And are the roses of sixteen
            Enough for me?

Lucilla asks, if that be all,
  Have I not cull'd as sweet before:
Ah yes, Lucilla! and their fall
            I still deplore.

I now behold another scene,
  Where Pleasure beams with Heaven's own light,
More pure, more constant, more serene,
            And not less bright.

Faith, on whose breast the Loves repose,
  Whose chain of flowers no force can sever,
And Modesty who, when she goes,
            Is gone for ever.

1. With Rosy Hand a Little Girl Prest Down
2. Twenty Years Hence My Eyes May Grow
3. Various the Roads of Life; in One
4. To Robert Browning
5. Child of a Day

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