Who is Walter Savage Landor

Walter Savage Landor (30 January 1775 – 17 September 1864) was an English writer, poet, and activist. His best known works were the prose Imaginary Conversations, and the poem "Rose Aylmer," but the critical acclaim he received from contemporary poets and reviewers was not matched by public popularity. As remarkable as his work was, it was equalled by his rumbustious character and lively temperament. Both his writing and political activism, such as his support for Lajos Kossuth and Giuseppe Garibaldi, were imbued with his passion for liberal and republican causes. He befriended and influenced the next generation of literary reformers such as Charles Dickens and Robert Browning.

Summary of his work

In a long and active life of 89 years Landor produced a considerab...
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Walter Savage Landor Poems

  • Age
    Death, tho' I see him not, is near
    And grudges me my eightieth year.
    Now, I would give him all these last
    For one that fifty have run past. ...
  • Ah What Avails The Sceptred Race,
    Ah what avails the sceptred race,
    Ah what the form divine!
    What every virtue, every grace!
    Rose Aylmer, all were thine. ...
  • The Poet Who Sleeps
    One day, when I was young, I read
    About a poet, long since dead,
    Who fell asleep, as poets do
    In writing--and make others too. ...
  • Here, Ever Since You Went Abroad,
    Here, ever since you went abroad,
    If there be change, no change I see,
    I only walk our wonted road,
    The road is only walkt by me. ...
  • A Pastoral
    Damon was sitting in the grove
    With Phyllis, and protesting love;
    And she was listening; but no word
    Of all he loudly swore she heard. ...
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Top 10 most used topics by Walter Savage Landor

Never 38 Love 36 I Love You 36 Away 25 Life 23 Sweet 22 Death 20 Thought 20 Long 20 White 18


Walter Savage Landor Quotes

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Comments about Walter Savage Landor

Lorilfoster: "what is reading but silent conversation?" walter savage landor
Johnndo62165861: the damps of autumn sink into the leaves and prepare them for the necessity of their fall; and thus insensibly are we, as years close around us, detached from our tenacity of life by the gentle pressure of recorded sorrow.,walter savage landor,autumn, nature, sorrow,
Donaldegreen: “delay of justice is injustice.” —walter savage landor
Edgardlemaire: "i sing the fates of gebir. he had dwelt among those mountain-caverns which retain his labours yet, vast halls and flowing wells, nor have forgotten their old master’s name though severed from his people here, incensed by..." walter savage landor - gebir, and count julian
Uw_rekening: i strive with none, for none was worth my strife. - walter savage landor
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Poem of the day

Edgar Albert Guest Poem
The Killing Place
 by Edgar Albert Guest

We're hiking along at a two-forty pace
We 're making life seem like a man-killing race,
With our nerves all on edge and our jaws firmly set
We go rushing along; with our brows lined with sweat
And our cheeks pale and drawn every minute we dash,
And the goal that we 're after is merely more cash.

We 're out for the money, the greenbacks and gold,
...

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