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Despair the twin-born of devotion.

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
Twin
Twins
Devotion
Despair
Born

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For words divide and rend But silence is most noble till the end.
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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.
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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.
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Before the beginning of years There came to the making of man Time with a gift of tears, Grief with a glass that ran .
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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
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Time stoops to no man's lure.
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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.
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His life is a watch or a vision Between a sleep and a sleep.
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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?
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Faith speaks when hope is disassembled faith lives when hope dies dead.
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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.
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There is no such thing as a dumb poet or a handless painter. The essence of an artist is that he should be articulate.
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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.
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But now, you are twain, you are cloven apart Flesh of his flesh, but heart of my heart.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
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The tadpole poet will never grow into anything bigger than a frog.
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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The sun is all about the world we see, the breath and strength of every spring.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
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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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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.
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Marvellous mercies and infinite love.
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