"What did the dark-haired Iberian laugh at before the tall blonde Aryan drove him into the corners of Europe?"-BRANDER MATTHEWS THE KINDLY MUSE TIME TO BE WISE YES; I write verses now and then, In the last quarter are my eyes, Fairest that ever sprang from Eve! I cannot clear the five-bar gate; Through gallopade I cannot swing The entangling blooms of Beauty's spring: I cannot say the tender thing, Be't true or false, And am beginning to opine Those girls are only half-divine Whose waists yon wicked boys entwine I fear that arm above that shoulder; Sedater, and no harm if colder, And panting less. Ah! people were not half so wild Walter Savage Landor [1775-1864] UNDER THE LINDENS UNDER the lindens lately sat A couple, and no more, in chat; I saw four eyes and four lips meet, I heard the words, "How sweet! how sweet!" Under the lindens? I pondered long and could not tell Bees! bees! was it your hydromel Under the lindens? Walter Savage Landor (1775-1864] ADVICE 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 gray, Until we reach that quiet bay Which only hears the tide. Then wave at me your pencil, then The creature of your hand. To Fanny And bid me then go past the nook To sketch me less in size; There are but few content to look Delight us with the gifts you have, Pleasures there are how close to Pain Let poetry's too throbbing vein Lie quiet in your breast. 1711 Walter Savage Landor [1775-1864] TO FANNY NEVER mind how the pedagogue proses, The lip, that such fragrance discloses, Old Chloe, whose withering kisses Have long set the Loves at defiance, Young Sappho, for want of employments, But for you to be buried in books- Read more than in millions of pages! Astronomy finds in your eyes Better light than she studies above, And Music must borrow your sighs As the melody fittest for Love, |