With folded arms I linger not To call them back; 'twere vain: In this, or in some other spot, I know they'll shine again. Walter Savage Landor. 1775-1864 564. Mother, I cannot mind my Wheel MOTHER, I cannot mind my wheel; My fingers ache, my lips are dry: O, if you felt the pain I feel! But O, who ever felt as I? No longer could I doubt him true-- All other men may use deceit; He always said my eyes were blue, And often swore my lips were sweet. Walter Savage Landor. 1775-1864 565. Autumn MILD is the parting year, and sweet The odour of the falling spray; Life passes on more rudely fleet, And balmless is its closing day. I wait its close, I court its gloom, But mourn that never must there fall Or on my breast or on my tomb The tear that would have soothed it all. Walter Savage Landor. 1775-1864 566. Remain! REMAIN, ah not in youth alone! --Tho' youth, where you are, long will stay-- But when my summer days are gone, And my autumnal haste away. 'Can I be always by your side?' No; but the hours you can, you must, Nor rise at Death's approaching stride, Nor go when dust is gone to dust. Walter Savage Landor. 1775-1864 567. Absence HERE, ever since you went abroad, If there be change no change I see: I only walk our wonted road, The road is only walk'd by me. Yes; I forgot; a change there is-- Was it of that you bade me tell? I catch at times, at times I miss The sight, the tone, I know so well. Only two months since you stood here? Two shortest months? Then tell me why Voices are harsher than they were, And tears are longer ere they dry. Walter Savage Landor. 1775-1864 568. Of Clementina IN Clementina's artless mien Lucilla asks me what I see, And are the roses of sixteen Enough for me? Lucilla asks, if that be all, Have I not cull'd as sweet before: Ah yes, Lucilla! and their fall I still deplore. I now behold another scene, Where Pleasure beams with Heaven's own light, More pure, more constant, more serene, And not less bright. Faith, on whose breast the Loves repose, Whose chain of flowers no force can sever, And Modesty who, when she goes, Is gone for ever. Walter Savage Landor. 1775-1864 569. Ianthe's Question 'DO you remember me? or are you proud?' Lightly advancing thro' her star-trimm'd crowd, Ianthe said, and look'd into my eyes. 'A yes, a yes to both: for Memory Where you but once have been must ever be, And at your voice Pride from his throne must rise.' Walter Savage Landor. 1775-1864 570. On Catullus TELL me not what too well I know About the bard of Sirmio. Yes, in Thalia's son Such stains there are--as when a Grace Sprinkles another's laughing face With nectar, and runs on. Walter Savage Landor. 1775-1864 571. Dirce STAND close around, ye Stygian set, With Dirce in one boat convey'd! Or Charon, seeing, may forget That he is old and she a shade. Walter Savage Landor. 1775-1864