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Walter Savage Landor (1775-1864)

To Robert Browning


              1There is delight in singing, tho' none hear
              2Beside the singer; and there is delight
              3In praising, tho' the praiser sit alone
              4And see the prais'd far off him, far above.
              5Shakspeare is not our poet, but the world's,
              6Therefore on him no speech! and brief for thee,
              7Browning! Since Chaucer was alive and hale,
              8No man hath walkt along our roads with step
              9So active, so inquiring eye, or tongue
            10So varied in discourse. But warmer climes
            11Give brighter plumage, stronger wing: the breeze
            12Of Alpine highths thou playest with, borne on
            13Beyond Sorrento and Amalfi, where
            14The Siren waits thee, singing song for song.

Notes

10] Browning had just married and gone to Italy.


Online text copyright © 2009, Ian Lancashire (the Department of English) and the University of Toronto.
Published by the Web Development Group, Information Technology Services, University of Toronto Libraries.

Original text: Morning Chronicle (1845). This text comes from Landor's Works (London: E. Moxon, 1846). PR 4870 A25F6 1846 ROBA.
First publication date: 1845
RPO poem editor: H. Kerpneck
RP edition: 3RP 3.7.
Recent editing: 4:2002/2/21

Form: Sonnet (unrhymed)


Other poems by Walter Savage Landor