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Algernon Charles Swinburne quotes about love

English Poet April 5, 1837 – April 10, 1909

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Quotes

Before the beginning of years. There came to the making of man. Time, with a gift of tears; Grief, with a glass that ran; Pleasure, with pain for leaven; Summer, with flowers that fell; Remembrance, fallen from heaven, And madness risen from hell; Strength without hands to smite; Love that endures for a breath; Night, the shadow of light, And Life, the shadow of death. Algernon Charles Swinburne
O brother, the gods were good to you. Sleep, and be glad while the worldendures. Be well content as the years wearthrough; Give thanks for life, and the loves andlures; Give thanks for life, O brother, anddeath, For the sweet last sound of her feet, herbreath, For gifts she gave you, gracious andfew, Tears and kisses, that lady of yours. Algernon Charles Swinburne
From too much love of living. From hope and fear set free, We thank with brief thanksgiving. Whatever gods may be. That no life lives for ever; That dead men rise up never; That even the weariest river. Winds somewhere safe to sea. Algernon Charles Swinburne
Lying asleep between the strokes of night. I saw my love lean over my sad bed, Pale as the duskiest lily's leaf or head, Smooth-skinned and dark, with bare throat made to bite, Too wan for blushing and too warm for white, But perfect-coloured without white or red. And her lips opened amorously, and said--I wist not what, saving one word--Delight. And all her face was honey to my mouth, And all her body pasture to my eyes; The long lithe arms and hotter hands than fire, The quivering flanks,... Algernon Charles Swinburne
If love were what the rose is, And I were like the leaf, Our lives would grow together, In sad or singing weather, Blown fields or flowerful closes, Green pleasure or grey grief; If love were what the rose is, And I were like the leaf. Algernon Charles Swinburne
She knows not loves that kissed her She knows not where. Art thou the ghost, my sister, White sister there, Am I the ghost, who knows? My hand, a fallen rose, Lies snow-white on white snows, and takes no care. Algernon Charles Swinburne
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
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
Fierce midnights and famishing morrows, And the loves that complete and control. All the joys of the flesh, all the sorrows. That wear out the soul. Algernon Charles Swinburne

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