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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
Fear
Gate
Death
Gates
Things
Breath
Men
Breaths
Life
Door
Worse
Doors
Waiting
More quotes by Algernon Charles Swinburne
The tadpole poet will never grow into anything bigger than a frog.
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Stately, kindly, lordly friend Condescend Here to sit by me.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
For winter's rains and ruins are over, And all the season of snows and sins The days dividing lover and lover, The light that loses, the night that wins And time remembered isgrief forgotten, And frosts are slain and flowers begotten, And in green underwood and cover Blossom by blossom the spring begins.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
Though one were fair as roses His beauty clouds and closes.
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
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
Hope knows not if fear speaks truth, nor fear whether hope be blind as she.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
Time turns the old days to derision, Our loves into corpses or wives.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
Sorrow, on wing through the world for ever, Here and there for awhile would borrow Rest, if rest might haply deliver Sorrow.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
But now, you are twain, you are cloven apart Flesh of his flesh, but heart of my heart.
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
His speech is a burning fire.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
There is no safety-net to protect against attraction.
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
Time stoops to no man's lure.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
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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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.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
No blast of air or fire of sun Puts out the light whereby we run With girdled loins our lamplit race, And each from each takes heart of grace And spirit till his turn be done.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
Thou hast conquered, O pale Galilean the world has grown grey from thy breath/ We have drunken of things Lethean, and fed on the fullness of death
Algernon Charles Swinburne
We are not sure of sorrow, And joy was never sure Today will die tomorrow Time stoops to no man's lure.
Algernon Charles Swinburne