WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR. WALT WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR was born January 30th, 1775, and died September 17th, 1864. He belonged to a good Warwickshire family, whose dignity and importance he was prone to magnify. From his first school at Knowle, he was sent at the age of ten to Rugby, where he remained for five years, distinguishing himself equally for the excellence of his Latin verse and the unruliness of his conduct. A quarrel with the head-master occasioned his removal. After an interval of three years spent under a private tutor he entered Trinity College, Oxford, in 1793. At the end of a year and a half he was rusticated for firing a gun through the windows of a room inhabited by a fellow obnoxious for his Toryism. This escapade caused a breach between Walter and his father which threatened to end in the exile of the former; but a partial reconcilliation took place, and Walter retired into Wales on an allowance of 150 pounds a year. There he lived for the next three years, during which he composed and published his first important work, "Gebir," a poem founded on an Arabian tale. "Poems from the Arabic and Persian" came next, in 1800. In 1806 a volume entitled "Simonidia," incongruously mixed with elegiacs on the death of friends. In 1805 Landor's father died; and two years later he sold his hereditary estates to invest the proceeds, and more, in the purchase of Llanthony Priory on the Welsh border. There he set on foot wild schemes of agricultural and social improvement, squandering his money and involving himself in quarrels with all around him. In 1811 he met a young lady at a ball, determined on the instant to marry her, and did it. It is not surprising that the pair lived an unhappy life. In the same year Landor wrote "Count Julian." After some family bickerings and a temporary separation, he settled with his wife for a short time at Tours, and afterwards, in 1815, set out for Italy. There they lived, for the greater part of the time, at Florence and Fiesole, till 1835. In 1820 Landor published the "Idyllia Heroica," a volume of Latin verses, part of which had already been printed under the same name. During the Florentine period he struck out a new line of literary production. He abandoned poetry almost entirely, and began his "Imaginary Conversations." The first two volumes appeared in 1824, and additions were made from time to time in subsequent years. These 'Conversations" won an audience, not indeed wide, but more considerable than any Landor had yet addressed; henceforth he was recognised by all literary men as a man of genius. In 1846 Forster's collected edition of Landor's works, including a number of new productions, was published. It was followed in 1847 by the Latin writings, printed His last volume, "Heroic Idylls," separately. appeared in 1863, and on September 17th in the following year he died. Landor is perhaps less known than any other English man of letters of equal calibre. He was remarkable both as a poet and as a prose writer, but neither his matter nor his manner appeals to a wide public. L. C. S. IPHIGENIA. IPHIGENIA, when she heard her doom And the down deadened it within the nest?" I thought to have selected the white flowers WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR. She now first shuddered; for in him, so nigh, Any, or more fervent, than the daughter's prayer One word, stepped slowly on, and took the wrist TO AGE. WELCOME, old friend! These many years The fates have laid aside their shears I was indocile at an age When better boys were taught, But thou at length hast made me sage, If I am sage in aught. Little I know from other men, Thanks for expelling fear and hope, Rather what lies before my feet My notice shall engage.. He who hath brave youth's dizzy heat Dreads not the frost of age. THE MAID'S LAMENT. I LOVED him not; and yet, now he is gone, I checked him while he spoke: yet could he speak, For reasons not to love him once I sought, To vex myself and him: I now would give Who lately lived for me, and when he found 'Twas vain, in holy ground He hid his face amid the shades of death! Who wasted his for me; but mine returns, Tears that had melted his soft heart: for years 475 "Merciful God!" such was his latest prayer, Pray for him, gentle souls, whoe'er ye be, ON THE DEATH OF SOUTHEY. NOT the last struggles of the sun, Precipitated from his golden throne, Hold darkling mortals in sublime suspense, But the calm exod of a man Nearer, though far above, who ran The race we run, when heaven recalls him hence. Thus, O thou pure of earthly taint! What voice in anguish can we raise ? Thee would we? Need we, dare we praise? God now does that, -the God thy whole heart loved. THE DRAGON-FLY. LIFE (priest and poet say) is but a dream; Thanks for this fancy, insect king, A RETROSPECT. THERE are some wishes that may start, UNDER THE LINDENS. UNDER the lindens lately sat I saw four eyes and four lips meet, I heard the words, How sweet! how sweet! Had then the Faries given a treat Under the lindens ? I pondered long and could not tell What dainty pleased them both so well; Bees! bees! was it your hydromel Under the lindens? ROSE AYLMER. Aн what avails the sceptered race, Rose Aylmer, all were thine. Rose Aylmer, whom these wakeful eyes A night of memories and of sighs THE SHELL AND THE OCEAN. But I have sinuous shells of pearly hue |