WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR
lanthe
"CROM you, lanthe, little troubles pass
- Like little ripples down a sunny river;
Your pleasures spring like daisies in the grass, Cut down, and up again as blithe as ever.
560. Twenty Tears hence
' I 'WENTY years hence my eyes may grow, A If not quite dim, yet rather so ; Yet yours from others they shall know, Twenty years hence.
Twenty years hence, though it may hap That I be call'd to take a nap In a cool cell where thunder-clap Was never heard,
There breathe but o'er my arch of grass A not too sadly sigh'd ' Alas ! ' And I shall catch, ere you can pass, That wingbd word.
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ST rain'd Ilion Helen lives, Alcestis rises from the shades ; Verse calls them forth; 'tis verse that gives Immortal youth to mortal maids.
Soon shall Oblivion's deepening veil Hide all the peopled hills you see,
The gay, the proud, while lovers hail These many summers you and me.
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