Walter Savage Landor Quotes

Ireland never was contented… Say you so? You are demented. Ireland was contented when All could use the sword and pen, And when Tara rose so high That her turrets split the sky, And about her courts were seen Liveried Angels robed in green, Wearing, by St. Patrick’s bounty, Emeralds big as half a county.

I strove with none; for none was worth my strife; Nature I loved, and, next to Nature, Art.

Death stands above me, whispering low I know not what into my ear; Of his strange language all I know Is, there is not a word of fear.

There are no fields of amaranth on this side of the grave.

Thee gentle Spenser fondly led; But me he mostly sent to bed.

There is delight in singing, tho’ none hear Beside the singer.