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Walter Savage Landor
Landor - "forced to leave Oxford because of his opinions" - raised a regiment, and, in 1807, went off to Spain to fight Napoleon. It is surprising to read this, for, Birrell, in his work on Hazlitt, said: "Between Hazlitt and Landor there were obvious resemblances. Both hated kings far better than they loved peoples. ... Both men had idolized Napoleon ... " Landor lived in Italy for a number of years (it was in Florence, 1824±, that Hazlitt met Landor; and, so, too, for Henry Crabb Robinson, in 1831). By 1838 Landor was living at Bath. Dickens, in his novel, Bleak House, models Mr. Boythorn after Landor.
Why, why repine, my pensive friend
The Evening Star
On His Seventy-fifth Birthday
On his eighteenth birthday.
1 Mild is the parting year, and sweet
2 The odour of the falling spray;
3 Life passes on more rudely fleet,
4 And balmless is its closing day.
5 I wait its close, I court its gloom,
6 But mourn that never must there fall
7 Or on my breast or on my tomb
8 The tear that would have soothed it all.
ONE lovely name adorns my song,
Death of the Day
My pictures blacken in their frames
As night come on,
And youthful maids and wrinkled dames
Are now all one.
Death of the day! A sterner Death
Did worse before;
The fairest form, the sweetest breath,
Away he bore.
1 You smiled, you spoke, and I believed,
2 By every word and smile deceived.
3 Another man would hope no more;
4 Nor hope I what I hoped before:
5 But let not this last wish be vain;
6 Deceive, deceive me once again!
On The Four Georges
George the First was always reckon’d
Vile - but viler George the Second;
And what mortal ever heard
Any good of George the Third?
When from earth the Fourth descended,
God be praised, the Georges ended.
Clap, clap the doule nightcap on!
Gifford will read you his amours...
Lazy as Scheld and cold as Don...
Kneel, and thank Heaven they are not yours.
Alas! 'tis very sad to hear,
Your and your Muse's end draws near:
I only wish, if this be true,
To lie a little way from you.
The grave is cold enough for me
Without you and yuor poetry.
© 2000 Elena and Yacov Feldman