The Poetry Corner

In After Time

By Walter Savage Landor

No, my own love of other years! No, it must never be. Much rests with you that yet endears, Alas! but what with me? Could those bright years oer me revolve So gay, oer you so fair, The pearl of life we would dissolve And each the cup might share. You show that truth can neer decay, Whatever fate befalls; I, that the myrtle and the bay Shoot fresh on ruind walls.