On Seeing A Hair Of Lucretia Borgia

A poem by Walter Savage Landor

Borgia, thou once wert almost too august
And high for adoration; now thou'rt dust.
All that remains of thee these plaits unfold,
Calm hair, meandering in pellucid gold.

Reader Comments

Tell us what you think of 'On Seeing A Hair Of Lucretia Borgia' by Walter Savage Landor

comments powered by Disqus

Home | Search | About this website | Contact | Privacy Policy