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At the door of life by the gate of breath, There are worse things waiting for men than death.
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
Worse
Doors
Waiting
Fear
Gate
Death
Gates
Things
Breath
Men
Breaths
Life
Door
More quotes by Algernon Charles Swinburne
Sleep and if life was bitter to thee, pardon, If sweet, give thanks thou hast no more to live And to give thanks is good, and to forgive.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
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
Marvellous mercies and infinite love.
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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.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
I have lived long enough, having seen one thing, that love hath an end
Algernon Charles Swinburne
Time stoops to no man's lure.
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
In the world of dreams, I have chosen my part. To sleep for a season and hear no word Of true love's truth or of light love's art, Only the song of a secret bird.
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The sweetest flowers in all the world- A baby's hands.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
Let weakness learn meekness.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
Love, as is told by the seers of old, Comes as a butterfly tipped with gold, Flutters and flies in sunlit skies, Weaving round hearts that were one time cold.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
His life is a watch or a vision Between a sleep and a sleep.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
A young man with a very good past. [Fr., Un jeune homme d'un bien beau passe.]
Algernon Charles Swinburne
Despair the twin-born of devotion.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
Wherever there is a grain of loyalty there is a glimpse of freedom.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
But now, you are twain, you are cloven apart Flesh of his flesh, but heart of my heart.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
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
Who knows but on their sleep may rise Such light as never heaven let through To lighten earth from Paradise?
Algernon Charles Swinburne
For whom all winds are quiet as the sun,/ All waters as the shore.
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