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As a god self-slain on his own strange altar, Death lies dead.
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
Dead
Strange
Lying
Death
Slain
Self
Altar
Altars
Lies
More quotes by 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.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
Marvellous mercies and infinite love.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
Fate is a sea without a shore, and the soul is a rock that abides.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
The sweetest flowers in all the world- A baby's hands.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
Before the beginning of years There came to the making of man Time with a gift of tears, Grief with a glass that ran .
Algernon Charles Swinburne
Fear that makes faith may break faith.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
The beast faith lives on its own dung.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
There grows No herb of help to heal a coward heart.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
A young man with a very good past. [Fr., Un jeune homme d'un bien beau passe.]
Algernon Charles Swinburne
Is not Precedent indeed a King of men? A Word from the Psalmist.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
Cold autumn, wan with wrath of wind and rain, Saw pass a soul sweet as the sovereign tune That death smote silent when he smote again.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
Love, till dawn sunder night from day with fire Dividing my delight and my desire.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
Today will die tomorrow.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
The highest spiritual quality, the noblest property of mind a man can have, is this of loyalty ... a man with no loyalty in him, with no sense of love or reverence or devotion due to something outside and above his poor daily life, with its pains and pleasures, profits and losses, is as evil a case as man can be.
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
Ask nothing more of me sweet All I can give you I give Heart of my heart were it more, More would be laid at your feet.
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
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
Love is more cruel than lust.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
For words divide and rend But silence is most noble till the end.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
