Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). A Victorian Anthology, 1837–1895. 1895.

Walter Savage Landor 1775–1864



TO write as your sweet mother does

Is all you wish to do.

Play, sing, and smile for others, Rose!

Let others write for you.

Or mount again your Dartmoor grey,

And I will walk beside,

Until we reach that quiet bay

Which only hears the tide.

Then wave at me your pencil, then

At distance bid me stand,

Before the cavern’d cliff, again

The creature of your hand.

And bid me then go past the nook

To sketch me less in size;

There are but few content to look

So little in your eyes.

Delight us with the gifts you have,

And wish for none beyond:

To some be gay, to some be grave,

To one (blest youth!) be fond.

Pleasures there are how close to Pain,

And better unpossest!

Let poetry’s too throbbing vein

Lie quiet in your breast.