Poem by Walter Savage Landor

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! he strikes all things, all alike,
But bargains: those he will not strike.

1. Twenty Years Hence My Eyes May Grow
2. A Pastoral
3. Idle Words
4. Well I Remember How You Smiled
5. Pleasure! Why Thus Desert the Heart

William Winter Age ("Snow and stars, the same as ever")

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