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Yet leave me not yet, if thou wilt, be free love me no more, but love my love of thee.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
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Algernon Charles Swinburne
Age: 72 †
Born: 1837
Born: April 5
Died: 1909
Died: April 10
Literary Critic
Poet
Writer
London
England
Algernon Swinburne
Algernon Charles Swinburne
Algernon Charles Swiburne
Heartbreak
Thou
Thee
Broken
Leave
Free
Wilt
Heart
Heartbreaking
Love
Heartache
More quotes by Algernon Charles Swinburne
Where might is, the right is: Long purses make strong swords. Let weakness learn meekness: God save the House of Lords!
Algernon Charles Swinburne
There grows No herb of help to heal a coward heart.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
To say of shame - what is it? Of virtue - we can miss it Of sin-we can kiss it, And it's no longer sin.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
Heart's ease of pansy, pleasure or thought, Which would the picture give us of these? Surely the heart that conceived it sought Heart's ease.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
My loss may shine yet goodlier than your gain When Time and God give judgment.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
And the best and the worst of this is That neither is most to blame, If you have forgotten my kisses And I have forgotten your name.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
Wherever there is a grain of loyalty there is a glimpse of freedom.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
O Love, O great god Love, what have I done, That thou shouldst hunger so after my death? My heart is harmless as my life's first day: Seek out some false fair woman, and plague her Till her tears even as my tears fill her bed.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
For words divide and rend But silence is most noble till the end.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
Change lays not her hand upon truth.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
Our way is where God knows And Love knows where: We are in Love's hand to-day.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
And lo, between the sundawn and the sun His day's work and his night's work are undone: And lo, between the nightfall and the light, He is not, and none knoweth of such an one.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
The tadpole poet will never grow into anything bigger than a frog not though in that stage of development he should puff and blow himself till he bursts with windy adulation at the heels of the laureled ox.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
Stately, kindly, lordly friend Condescend Here to sit by me.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
We, drinking love at the furthest springs, Covered with love as a covering tree, We had grown as gods, as the gods above, Filled from the heart to the lips with love, Held fast in his hands, clothed warm with his wings, O love, my love, had you loved but me!
Algernon Charles Swinburne
Fear that makes faith may break faith.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
Hope thou not much, and fear thou not at all.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
At the door of life by the gate of breath, There are worse things waiting for men than death.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
White rose in red rose-garden Is not so white Snowdrops, that plead for pardon And pine for fright Because the hard East blows Over their maiden vows, Grow not as this face grows from pale to bright.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
The more congenial page of some tenth-rate poeticule worn out with failure after failure and now squat in his hole like the tailless fox, he is curled up to snarl and whimper beneath the inaccessible vine of song.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
