Living
Blest Are the Bad Alone While Here
From Works and Life, ed. Forster, vol. VIII (1876)
Living
Blest are the bad alone while here,
Alone they never shed a tear,
The wise and virtuous grieve the most . .
Southey, until all sense was lost,
Bewail'd a son's untimely end,
And Tennyson embalm'd a friend.
I dare not place my name with those,
But have not I too wept for Rose?
Cite this poem
MLA
Landor, Walter Savage. “Blest Are the Bad Alone While Here.” Poetry Codex, poetrycodex.com/poem/landor/904/.
Chicago
Landor, Walter Savage. “Blest Are the Bad Alone While Here.” Poetry Codex. https://poetrycodex.com/poem/landor/904/.
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