On His Eightieth Birthday
To my ninth decade I have tottered on, And no soft arm bends now my steps to steady; She, who once led me where she would, is gone, So when he calls me, Death shall find me ready.
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"To my ninth decade I have tottered on,..."
"On His Eightieth Birthday" is a quintessential example of Walter Savage Landor's signature style... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...