Quote

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

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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
Think
Lips
Thinking
Angel
Like
Sea
Meet
Tempt
Baby
Pink
Feet
Shells
Heaven
Kiss
Might
Kissing

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To wipe off the froth of falsehood from the foaming lips of inebriated virtue, when fresh from the sexless orgies of morality and reeling from the delirious riot of religion, may doubtless be a charitable office.
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In the world of dreams, I have chosen my part.
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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.
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The highest spiritual quality, the noblest property of mind a man can have, is this of loyalty.
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The tadpole poet will never grow into anything bigger than a frog.
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I shall sleep, and move with the moving ships, Change as the winds change, veer in the tide.
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Stately, kindly, lordly friend Condescend Here to sit by me.
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Change lays her hand not upon the truth.
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Body and spirit are twins: God only knows which is which.
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Time turns the old days to derision, Our loves into corpses or wives.
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When I hear that a personal friend has fallen into matrimonial courses, I feel the same sorrow as if I had heard of his lapsing into theism — a holy sorrow, unmixed with anger.
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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!
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Though one were fair as roses His beauty clouds and closes.
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Ask nothing more of me sweet All I can give you I give Heart of my heart were it more, More would be laid at your feet.
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Time stoops to no man's lure.
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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
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Our way is where God knows And Love knows where: We are in Love's hand to-day.
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Wherever there is a grain of loyalty there is a glimpse of freedom.
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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.
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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.
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