Ah what avails the sceptred race,
Ah what avails the sceptred race, Ah what the form divine! What every virtue, every grace! Rose Aylmer, all were thine. Rose Aylmer, whom these wakeful eyes May weep, but never see, A night of memories and of sighs I consecrate to thee.
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"Ah what avails the sceptred race,..."
Walter Savage Landor's contribution to classic is further solidified by the brilliance found in "Ah what avails the sceptred race,"... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...