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The delight that consumes the desire, The desire that outruns the delight.
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
Outruns
Consumes
Outrun
Delight
Desire
More quotes by Algernon Charles Swinburne
Marvellous mercies and infinite love.
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Yet leave me not yet, if thou wilt, be free love me no more, but love my love of thee.
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Blossom by blossom the spring begins.
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Fruits fail and love dies and time rangesThou art fed with perpetual breath, and alive after infinite changes,And fresh from the kisses of death,Of langours rekindled and rallied, Of barren delights and unclean,Things monstrous and fruitless, a pallidAnd poisonous queen.
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Love, till dawn sunder night from day with fire Dividing my delight and my desire.
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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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Change lays her hand not upon the truth.
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Thou has conquered, O pale Galilean.
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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.
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There grows No herb of help to heal a coward heart.
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Stately, kindly, lordly friend Condescend Here to sit by me.
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For whom all winds are quiet as the sun,/ All waters as the shore.
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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.
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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.
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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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There is no safety-net to protect against attraction.
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Let weakness learn meekness.
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A little soul scarce fledged for earth Takes wing with heaven again for goal, Even while we hailed as fresh from birth A little soul.
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At the door of life by the gate of breath, There are worse things waiting for men than death.
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The loves and hours of the life of a man, They are swift and sad, being born of the sea.
Algernon Charles Swinburne