Earlier this spring, I became more deeply acquainted with Victorian poet Walter Savage Landor. I had sent a copy of my first collection of poems to a friend, and when she read the first poem in Still Life with Poppies: Elegies, called “On Biography”, she wrote to say that it was worthy of Walter Savage Landor.

Wait a minute, I thought. I know that name! I knew he was Victorian, but I could not recall any of his works, so I looked him up. At the Poetry Foundation entry for Landor, I found a good sampling of his poems, and I fell in love with one that was knew to me. It is called “Dying Speech of an Old Philosopher,” just four lines long. I printed out a copy and fixed it to the refrigerator. It is now memorized—engraven on my heart.

Dying Speech of an Old Philosopher
     by Walter Savage Landor

I strove with none, for none was worth my strife;
Nature I loved, and, next to Nature, Art;
I warm’d both hands before the fire of Life;
It sinks; and I am ready to depart.

Now I am mindful not only of the very active life of this accomplished poetic forebearer but also of the compliment paid to my own small poem. And what a fascinating life Savage Landor lived! After the turbulence he created and endured, his epigram might only be a wish–it seemed he strove with everyone!–but it is is so purely crafted that, even if it is sheer fiction, it rings with quiet conviction. My hope for Landor is that he did achieve this kind of acceptance of life and death by his late demise, and for myself that each day, lived to the full, would serve, should the need arise, as “a good day to die.” In the meantime, I am forecasting that this summer is “a good season to read more poems by Walter Savage Landor.”

Here is the poem of my own that sparked all this exploration:

On Biography
	to those I leave behind

I would write a book that cannot burn, 
a book of clear-running water,
complete, with song and  wisdom—stern
as my beautiful daughter.

All biography ends in death.
All lifelines run their seaward course.
Read me again, while you have breath,
until you know my secret’s source.


Leslie Schultz
(first published in Mezzo Cammin; 
  republished in Still Life with Poppies: Elegies)

Context for My Poem, “Coming Attractions”:

This poem was inspired by my day in the garden yesterday, in the company of my beautiful daughter who deliver the surprise gift of a “Bluebell” grape vine (Thank you, Andrew!), and also from the quiet mood of Landor’s poem. As I remind myself frequently, “The present moment is the gift.”

Wishing you a serene day,

Until Tomorrow, LESLIE