To Robert Browning

By Walter Savage Landor 1775–1864
There is delight in singing, tho’ none hear
Beside the singer; and there is delight
In praising, tho’ the praiser sit alone
And see the prais’d far off him, far above.
Shakspeare is not our poet, but the world’s,
Therefore on him no speech! and brief for thee,
Browning! Since Chaucer was alive and hale,
No man hath walkt along our roads with step
So active, so inquiring eye, or tongue
So varied in discourse. But warmer climes
Give brighter plumage, stronger wing: the breeze
Of Alpine highths thou playest with, borne on
Beyond Sorrento and Amalfi, where
The Siren waits thee, singing song for song.

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Poet Walter Savage Landor 1775–1864



Subjects Music, Arts & Sciences, Poetry & Poets

Poetic Terms Sonnet, Ode

 Walter Savage Landor


As a poet, Walter Savage Landor has enjoyed a permanent minority reputation for the classicism of his epigrams and idyls. He was a seriously emulative classicist and wrote a significant proportion of his poetry in Latin, which was also the original language of some of the long and short poems that he published in English. Indeed, he was deterred from making it his chief medium only by the example of John Milton and the advice of . . .

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Poem Categorization

SUBJECT Music, Arts & Sciences, Poetry & Poets



Poetic Terms Sonnet, Ode

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Originally appeared in Poetry magazine.

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