Poems by Algernon Charles Swinburne

All Poems Original Poems Translations

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In Harbour

Goodnight and goodbye to the life whose signs denote us

As mourners clothed with regret for the life gone by;

To the waters of gloom whence winds of the dayspring float us

Goodnight and goodbye.

A time is for mourning, a season for grief to sigh;

But were we not fools and blind, by day to devote us

As thralls to the darkness, unseen of the sundawn's eye?

by Algernon Charles Swinburne

An Appeal

Art thou indeed among these,

Thou of the tyrannous crew,

The kingdoms fed upon blood,

O queen from of old of the seas,

England, art thou of them too

That drink of the poisonous flood,

That hide under poisonous trees?

Nay, thy name from of old,

by Algernon Charles Swinburne

A Leave-Taking

Let us go hence, my songs; she will not hear.

Let us go hence together without fear;

Keep silence now, for singing-time is over,

And over all old things and all things dear.

She loves not you nor me as all we love her.

Yea, though we sang as angels in her ear,

She would not hear.

Let us rise up and part; she will not know.

by Algernon Charles Swinburne

Mourning

Alas my brother! the cry of the mourners of old

That cried on each other,

All crying aloud on the dead as the death-note rolled,

Alas my brother!

As flashes of dawn that mists from an east wind smother

With fold upon fold,

The past years gleam that linked us one with another.

Time sunders hearts as of brethren whose eyes behold

by Algernon Charles Swinburne

Blessed Among Women --To The Signora Cairoli

1 BLESSED was she that bare,

Hidden in flesh most fair,

For all men’s sake the likeness of all love;

Holy that virgin’s womb,

The old record saith, on whom

The glory of God alighted as a dove;

Blessed, who brought to gracious birth

The sweet-souled Saviour of a man-tormented earth.

by Algernon Charles Swinburne

The Garden of Prosperine

Here, where the world is quiet,

Here, where all trouble seems

Dead winds' and spent waves' riot

In doubtful dreams of dreams;

I watch the green field growing

For reaping folk and sowing,

For harvest-time and mowing,

A sleepy world of streams.

by Algernon Charles Swinburne

The Death Of Richard Wagner

Mourning on earth, as when dark hours descend,

Wide-winged with plagues, from heaven; when hope and mirth

Wane, and no lips rebuke or reprehend

Mourning on earth.

The soul wherein her songs of death and birth,

Darkness and light, were wont to sound and blend,

Now silent, leaves the whole world less in worth.

Winds that make moan and triumph, skies that bend,

by Algernon Charles Swinburne

A Night-Piece By Millet

Wind and sea and cloud and cloud-forsaking

Mirth of moonlight where the storm leaves free

Heaven awhile, for all the wrath of waking

Wind and sea.

Bright with glad mad rapture, fierce with glee,

Laughs the moon, borne on past cloud's o'ertaking

Fast, it seems, as wind or sail can flee.

One blown sail beneath her, hardly making

by Algernon Charles Swinburne

Change

But now life's face beholden

Seemed bright as heaven's bare brow

With hope of gifts withholden

But now.

From time's full-flowering bough

Each bud spake bloom to embolden

Love's heart, and seal his vow.

Joy's eyes grew deep with olden

by Algernon Charles Swinburne

Quia Multum Amavit

Am I not he that hath made thee and begotten thee,

I, God, the spirit of man?

Wherefore now these eighteen years hast thou forgotten me,

From whom thy life began?

Thy life-blood and thy life-breath and thy beauty,

Thy might of hands and feet,

Thy soul made strong for divinity of duty

And service which was sweet.

by Algernon Charles Swinburne

A Year's Burden -- 1870

Fire and wild light of hope and doubt and fear,

Wind of swift change, and clouds and hours that veer

As the storm shifts of the tempestuous year;

Cry wellaway, but well befall the right.

Hope sits yet hiding her war-wearied eyes,

Doubt sets her forehead earthward and denies,

But fear brought hand to hand with danger dies,

Dies and is burnt up in the fire of fight.

by Algernon Charles Swinburne

Before A Crucifix

Here, down between the dusty trees,

At this lank edge of haggard wood,

Women with labour-loosened knees,

With gaunt backs bowed by servitude,

Stop, shift their loads, and pray, and fare

Forth with souls easier for the prayer.

The suns have branded black, the rains

Striped grey this piteous God of theirs;

by Algernon Charles Swinburne