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In friendship's fragrant garden, There are flowers of every hue. Each with its own fair beauty And its gift of joy for you. Friendship's Garden If love were what the rose is, And I were like the leaf, Our lives would grow together In sad or singing weather.

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
Lives
Garden
Leafs
Together
Friendship
Leaf
Every
Flower
Flowers
Would
Singing
Weather
Love
Grow
Fairs
Like
Joy
Fair
Grows
Rose
Fragrant
Beauty
Gift
Hue

More quotes by Algernon Charles Swinburne

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Fate is a sea without a shore, and the soul is a rock that abides.
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Wan February with weeping cheer, Whose cold hand guides the youngling year Down misty roads of mire and rime, Before thy pale and fitful face The shrill wind shifts the clouds apace Through skies the morning scarce may climb. Thine eyes are thick with heavy tears, But lit with hopes that light the year's.
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To have read the greatest works of any great poet, to have beheld or heard the greatest works of any great painter or musician, is a possession added to the best things of life.
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Stately, kindly, lordly friend Condescend Here to sit by me.
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Though one were fair as roses His beauty clouds and closes.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
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On the mountains of memory by the world's wellsprings, in all man's eyes, where the light of life of him is on all past things, death only dies.
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Life is the lust of a lamp for the light that is dark till the dawn of the day that we die.
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The sun is all about the world we see, the breath and strength of every spring.
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If you were Queen of pleasure And I were King of pain We'd hunt down Love together, Pluck out his flying-feather, And teach his feet a measure, And find his mouth a rein If you were Queen of pleasure And I were King of pain.
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For the crown of our life as it closes Is darkness, the fruit thereof dust No thorns go as deep as a rose's, And love is more cruel than lust. Time turns the old days to derision, Our loves into corpses or wives And marriage and death and division Make barren our lives.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
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My loss may shine yet goodlier than your gain When Time and God give judgment.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
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I remember the way we parted, The day and the way we met You hoped we were both broken-hearted And knew we should both forget.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
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In hawthorn-time the heart grows light.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
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The beast faith lives on its own dung.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
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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
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She knows not loves that kissed her She knows not where. Art thou the ghost, my sister, White sister there, Am I the ghost, who knows? My hand, a fallen rose, Lies snow-white on white snows, and takes no care.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
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I am tired of tears and laughter, And men that laugh and weep Of what may come hereafter For men that sow to reap: I am weary of days and hours, Blown buds of barren flowers, Desires and dreams and powers And everything but sleep.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
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Is not Precedent indeed a King of men? A Word from the Psalmist.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
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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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Not with dreams, but with blood and with iron, Shall a nation be moulded at last.
Algernon Charles Swinburne