I strove with none; for none was worth my strife.
Nature I loved, and next to Nature, Art;
I warmed both hands before the fire of life.
It sinks and I am ready to depart.
In order to fit my own feelings, I should have to make some slight changes in his poem, so that the amended version would read as follows:
I strove with none. I always hated strife.
Nature I loved, and God and Man and Art.
I warmed both hands before the fire of life;
It sinks—yet I’m not ready to depart.
Landor was sometimes in a more jovial mood, as in his invitation to Tennyson: