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On the mountains of memory by the world's wellsprings, in all man's eyes, where the light of life of him is on all past things, death only dies.
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
Light
Memory
Things
Mountain
Men
Memories
Life
Eyes
World
Dies
Eye
Death
Past
Mountains
More quotes by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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
The delight that consumes the desire, The desire that outruns the delight.
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
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.
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
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
Change lays not her hand upon truth.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
Though one were fair as roses His beauty clouds and closes.
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
O Love, O great god Love, what have I done, That thou shouldst hunger so after my death? My heart is harmless as my life's first day: Seek out some false fair woman, and plague her Till her tears even as my tears fill her bed.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
For the crown of our life as it closes Is darkness, the fruit thereof dust No thorns go as deep as a rose's, And love is more cruel than lust. Time turns the old days to derision, Our loves into corpses or wives And marriage and death and division Make barren our lives.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
When the hounds of Spring are on winter's traces, The mother of months in meadow or plain Fills the shadows and windy places With lisp of leaves and ripple of rain.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
God's own hand Holds fast all issues of our deeds: with him The end of all our ends is, but with us Our ends are, just or unjust: though our works Find righteous or unrighteous judgment, this At least is ours, to make them righteous.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
There is no God found stronger than death and death is a sleep.
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
Where might is, the right is: Long purses make strong swords. Let weakness learn meekness: God save the House of Lords!
Algernon Charles Swinburne
There lived a singer in France of old By the tideless dolorous midland sea. In a land of sand and rain and gold There shone one woman, and none but she.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
The loves and hours of the life of a man, They are swift and sad, being born of the sea.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
As a god self-slain on his own strange altar, Death lies dead.
Algernon Charles Swinburne