Algernon Charles Swinburne: Всі вірші поета

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Christmas Antiphones

I — In Church

Thou whose birth on earth

Angels sang to men,

While thy stars made mirth,

Saviour, at thy birth,

This day born again;

As this night was bright

With thy cradle-ray,

by Algernon Charles Swinburne

The Higher Pantheism in a Nutshell

One, who is not, we see: but one, whom we see not, is:

Surely this is not that: but that is assuredly this.

What, and wherefore, and whence? for under is over and under:

If thunder could be without lightning, lightning could be without thunder.

Doubt is faith in the main: but faith, on the whole, is doubt:

We cannot believe by proof: but could we believe without?

Why, and whither, and how? for barley and rye are not clover:

Neither are straight lines curves: yet over is under and over.

by Algernon Charles Swinburne

Sorrow

SORROW, on wing through the world for ever,

Here and there for awhile would borrow

Rest, if rest might haply deliver

Sorrow.

One thought lies close in her heart gnawn thorough

With pain, a weed in a dried-up river,

A rust-red share in an empty furrow.

Hearts that strain at her chain would sever

by Algernon Charles Swinburne

Messidor

Put in the sickles and reap;

For the morning of harvest is red,

And the long large ranks of the corn

Coloured and clothed as the morn

Stand thick in the fields and deep

For them that faint to be fed.

Let all that hunger and weep

Come hither, and who would have bread

by Algernon Charles Swinburne

Mentana : First Anniversary

At the time when the stars are grey,

And the gold of the molten moon

Fades, and the twilight is thinned,

And the sun leaps up, and the wind,

A light rose, not of the day,

A stronger light than of noon.

As the light of a face much loved

Was the face of the light that clomb;

by Algernon Charles Swinburne

'Non Dolet'

It does not hurt. She looked along the knife

Smiling, and watched the thick drops mix and run

Down the sheer blade; not that which had been done

Could hurt the sweet sense of the Roman wife,

But that which was to do yet ere the strife

Could end for each for ever, and the sun:

Nor was the palm yet nor was peace yet won

While pain had power upon her husband's life.

by Algernon Charles Swinburne

Birth And 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

by Algernon Charles Swinburne

At Sea

'Farewell and adieu' was the burden prevailing

Long since in the chant of a home-faring crew;

And the heart in us echoes, with laughing or wailing,

Farewell and adieu.

Each year that we live shall we sing it anew,

With a water untravelled before us for sailing

And a water behind us that wrecks may bestrew.

The stars of the past and the beacons are paling,

by Algernon Charles Swinburne

A Forsaken Garden

IN a coign of the cliff between lowland and highland,

At the sea-down's edge between windward and lee,

Walled round with rocks as an inland island,

The ghost of a garden fronts the sea.

A girdle of brushwood and thorn encloses

The steep square slope of the blossomless bed

Where the weeds that grew green from the graves of its roses

Now lie dead.

by Algernon Charles Swinburne

Ode On The Insurrection In Candia

STR. 1

I laid my laurel-leaf

At the white feet of grief,

Seeing how with covered face and plumeless wings,

With unreverted head

Veiled, as who mourns his dead,

Lay Freedom couched between the thrones of kings,

A wearied lion without lair,

by Algernon Charles Swinburne

A Dead Friend

Gone, O gentle heart and true,

Friend of hopes foregone,

Hopes and hopeful days with you

Gone?

Days of old that shone

Saw what none shall see anew,

When we gazed thereon.

by Algernon Charles Swinburne

Eurydice - To Victor Hugo

Orpheus, the night is full of tears and cries,

And hardly for the storm and ruin shed

Can even thine eyes be certain of her head

Who never passed out of thy spirit's eyes,

But stood and shone before them in such wise

As when with love her lips and hands were fed,

And with mute mouth out of the dusty dead

Strove to make answer when thou bad'st her rise.

by Algernon Charles Swinburne