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There was a poor poet named Clough, Whom his friends all united to puff, But the public, though dull, Had not such a skull As belonged to believers in Clough.
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
Poet
Puff
Public
Belonged
Though
Skulls
Friends
Believers
Poor
Named
United
Dull
Believer
Friendship
Skull
More quotes by 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
Where might is, the right is: Long purses make strong swords. Let weakness learn meekness: God save the House of Lords!
Algernon Charles Swinburne
Love lies bleeding in the bed whereover Roses lean with smiling mouths or pleading: Earth lies laughing where the sun's dart clove her: Love lies bleeding.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
A baby's feet, like sea-shells pink Might tempt, should heaven see meet, An angel's lips to kiss, we think, A baby's feet.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
The beast faith lives on its own dung.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
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
When fate has allowed to any man more than one great gift, accident or necessity seems usually to contrive that one shall encumber and impede the other.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
Doubt is faith in the main: but faith, on the whole, is doubt We cannot believe by proof: but could we believe without?
Algernon Charles Swinburne
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
Love, till dawn sunder night from day with fire Dividing my delight and my desire.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
Fear that makes faith may break faith.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
Not with dreams, but with blood and with iron, Shall a nation be moulded at last.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
Thou has conquered, O pale Galilean.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
I dore not always touch her, lest the kiss Leave my lips charred. Yea, Lord, a little bliss, Brief, bitter bliss, one hath for a great sin Nathless thou knowest how sweet a thing it is.
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
There grows No herb of help to heal a coward heart.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
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
His life is a watch or a vision Between a sleep and a sleep.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
I will go back to the great sweet mother, Mother and lover of men, the sea. I will go down to her, I and no other, Close with her, kiss her and mix her with me.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
Then star nor sun shall waken, Nor any change of light: Nor sound of waters shaken, Nor any sound or sight: Nor wintry leaves nor vernal Nor days nor things diurnal Only the sleep eternal In an eternal night.
Algernon Charles Swinburne