William Stanley Braithwaite, ed. The Book of Georgian Verse. 1909.
To a CyclamenWalter Savage Landor (17751864)
I
My little flowerless cyclamen;
To touch the hands, almost to press,
That cheered thee in thy loneliness.
What could these lovely sisters find
Of thee in form, of me in mind,
What is there in us rich or rare,
To make us worth a moment’s care?
Unworthy to be so caressed,
We are but wither’d leaves at best.