558. Rose Aylmer

Walter Savage Landor. 1775-1864

AH, what avails the sceptred race!
  Ah, what the form divine!
What every virtue, every grace!
  Rose Aylmer, all were thine.

Rose Aylmer, whom these wakeful eyes
  May weep, but never see,
A night of memories and sighs
  I consecrate to thee.

The Oxford Book of English Verse, HTML edition