Mother, I Cannot Mind My Wheel

Walter Savage Landor

Mother, I cannot mind my wheel;
  My fingers ache, my lips are dry:
Oh! if you felt the pain I feel!
  But Oh, who ever felt as I?

No longer could I doubt him true;
  All other men may use deceit:
He always said my eyes were blue,
  And often swore my lips were sweet.

Next 10 Poems

• Walter Savage Landor : Of Clementina
• Walter Savage Landor : On An Eclipse Of The Moon
• Walter Savage Landor : On Catullus
• Walter Savage Landor : On His Eightieth Birthday
• Walter Savage Landor : On His Seventy-fifth Birthday
• Walter Savage Landor : One Lovely Name
• Walter Savage Landor : Proud Word You Never Spoke
• Walter Savage Landor : Remain!
• Walter Savage Landor : Resignation
• Walter Savage Landor : Rose Aylmer

Previous 10 Poems

• Walter Savage Landor : Mild Is The Parting Year
• Walter Savage Landor : Lately Our Poets
• Walter Savage Landor : Late Leaves
• Walter Savage Landor : In Spring And Summer Winds May Blow
• Walter Savage Landor : Ianthe's Question
• Walter Savage Landor : Ianthe! You Are Call'd To Cross The Sea
• Walter Savage Landor : Ianthe
• Walter Savage Landor : I Strove With None
• Walter Savage Landor : I Entreat You, Alfred Tennyson
• Walter Savage Landor : God Scatters Beauty