Poem by Walter Savage Landor

Dying Speech of an Old Philosopher

I strove with none, for none was worth my strife: 
         Nature I loved, and, next to Nature, Art: 
I warm’d both hands before the fire of Life; 
         It sinks; and I am ready to depart.

1. Tell Me Not Things Past All Belief
2. The Poet Who Sleeps
3. Idle Words
4. She I Love
5. Twenty Years Hence My Eyes May Grow

Print

3803 Views

Last Poems

To Russian version