58 Total Quotes

Algernon Swinburne 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.
Algernon Swinburne
#Beginning

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 Swinburne
#Fear

I have lived long enough, having seen one thing, that love hath an end;/ Goddess and maiden and queen, be near me now and befriend.
Algernon Swinburne
#Love

Maiden, and mistress of the months and stars/ Now folded in the flowerless fields of heaven.
Algernon Swinburne
#Heaven

Body and spirit are twins: God only knows which is which
Algernon Swinburne
#Body

I will go back to the great sweet mother,/ Mother and lover of men, the sea.
Algernon Swinburne
#Men

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 Swinburne
#Mother

A little soul for a little bears up this corpse which is man.
Algernon Swinburne
#Man

I am that which began:/ Out of me the years roll;/ Out of me God and man;/ I am equal and whole;/ God changes, and man, and the form of them bodily; I am the soul.
Algernon Swinburne
#God

I am tired of tears and laughter,/ And men that laugh and weep;/ Of what may come hereafter/ For men that sow and reap.
Algernon Swinburne
#Laughter

While three men hold together, the kingdoms are less by three.
Algernon Swinburne
#Men #English Poet

A creed is a rod,/ And a crown is of night:/ But this thing is God:/ To be man with thy might,/ To grow straight in the strength of thy spirit, and live out thy life as the light.
Algernon Swinburne
#God

For words divide and rend;/ But silence is most noble till the end.
Algernon Swinburne
#Silence

Glory to Man in the highest! for Man is the master of things.
Algernon Swinburne
#English Poet #Glory

He weaves, and is clothed with derision;/ Sows, and he shall not reap;/ His life is a watch or a vision/ Between a sleep and a sleep.
Algernon Swinburne
#Life

Hope thou not much, and fear thou not at all.
Algernon Swinburne
#English Poet #Fear

As a god self-slain on his own strange altar,/ Death lies dead.
Algernon Swinburne
#Death

Come down and redeem us from virtue,/ Our Lady of Pain.
Algernon Swinburne
#Pain

Where might is, the right is:/ Long purses make strong swords./ Let weakness learn meekness:/ God save the House of Lords!
Algernon Swinburne
#God

Here, where the world is quiet;/ Here, where all trouble seems/ Dead winds' and spent waves' riot/ In doubtful dreams of dreams.
Algernon Swinburne
#Dreams

Time turns the old days to derision, Our loves into corpses or wives; And marriage and death and division Make barren our lives
Algernon Swinburne
#Marriage

To say of shame - what is it? Of virtue - we can miss it; Of sin-we can kiss it, And it's no longer sin
Algernon Swinburne
#Virtue

Beneath the shadow of dawn's aƫrial cope, With eyes enkindled as the sun's own sphere, Hope from the front of youth in godlike cheer Looks Godward, past the shades where blind men grope Round the dark door that prayers nor dreams can ope, And makes for joy the very darkness dear That gives her wide wings play; nor dreams that fear At noon may rise and pierce the heart of hope. Then, when the soul leaves off to dream and yearn, May truth first purge her eyesight to discern What, once being known, leaves time no power to appall; Till yoiuth at last, ere yet youth be not, learn The kind wise word that falls from years that fall-- "Hope thou not much, and fear thou not at all."
Algernon Swinburne
#Hope

He held no dream worth waking; so he said, He who stands now on death's triumphal steep, Awakened out of life wherein we sleep And dream of what he knows and sees, being dead. But never death for him was dark or dread; "Look forth," he bade the soul, and fear not. Weep, All ye that trust not in his truth, and keep Vain memory's vision of a vanished head As all that lives of all that once was he Save that which lightens from his word; but we, Who, seeing the sunset-colored waters roll, Yet know the sun subdued not of the sea, Nor weep nor doubt that still the spirit is whole, And life and death but shadows of the soul.
Algernon Swinburne
#Death

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. Our thoughts ring sad as bells that toll, Not knowing beyond this blind world's girth What things are writ in heaven's full scroll. Our fruitfulness is there but dearth, And all things held in time's control Seem there, perchance, ill dreams, not worth A little soul. The little feet that never trod Earth, never strayed in field or street, What hand leads upward back to God The little feet? A rose in June's most honied heat, When life makes keen the kindling sod, Was not so soft and warm and sweet. Their pilgrimage's period A few swift moons have seen complete Since mother's hands first clasped and shod The little feet. The little hands that never sought Earth's prizes, worthless all as sands, What gift has death, God's servant, brought The little hands? We ask: but love's self silent stands, Love, that lends eyes and wings to thought To search where death's dim heaven expands. Ere this, perchance, though love know nought, Flowers fill them, grown in lovelier lands, Where hands of guiding angels caught The little hands. The little eyes that never knew Light other than of dawning skies, What new life now lights up anew The little eyes? Who knows but on their sleep may rise Such light as never heaven let through To lighten earth from Paradise? No storm, we know, may change the blue Soft heaven that haply death descries No tears, like these in ours, bedew The little eyes. Was life so strange, so sad the sky, So strait the wide world's range, He would not stay to wonder why Was life so strange? Was earth's fair house a joyless grange Beside that house on high Whence Time that bore him failed to estrange? That here at once his soul put by All gifts of time and change, And left us heavier hearts to sigh 'Was life so strange?' Angel by name love called him, seeing so fair The sweet small frame; Meet to be called, if ever man's child were, Angel by name. Rose-bright and warm from heaven's own heart he came, And might not bear The cloud that covers earth's wan face with shame. His little light of life was all too rare And soft a flame: Heaven yearned for him till angels hailed him there Angel by name. The song that smiled upon his birthday here Weeps on the grave that holds him undefiled Whose loss makes bitterer than a soundless tear The song that smiled. His name crowned once the mightiest ever styled Sovereign of arts, and angel: fate and fear Knew then their master, and were reconciled. But we saw born beneath some tenderer sphere Michael, an angel and a little child, Whose loss bows down to weep upon his bier The song that smiled.
Algernon Swinburne
#Death

Death and birth should dwell not near together: Wealth keeps house not, even for shame, with dearth: Fate doth ill to link in one brief tether Death and birth. Harsh the yoke that binds them, strange the girth Seems that girds them each with each: yet whether Death be best, who knows, or life on earth? Ill the rose-red and the sable feather Blend in one crown's plume, as grief with mirth: Ill met still are warm and wintry weather, Death and birth.
Algernon Swinburne
#Death

Birth and death, twin-sister and twin-brother, Night and day, on all things that draw breath, Reign, while time keeps friends with one another Birth and death. Each brow-bound with flowers diverse of wreath, Heaven they hail as father, earth as mother, Faithful found above them and beneath. Smiles may lighten tears, and tears may smother Smiles, for all that joy or sorrow saith: Joy nor sorrow knows not from each other Birth and death.
Algernon Swinburne
#Death