Hertha (Algernon Charles Swinburne Poems)
I am that which began;Out of me the years roll;Out of me God and man;I am equal and whole;God changes, ...
I am that which began;Out of me the years roll;Out of me God and man;I am equal and whole;God changes, ...
WRITTEN FOR THE ANNIVERSARY OF HIS BIRTH, JANUARY 25, 1859.A HUNDRED years ago, when George was King, The second monarch ...
In that land where the heaven-tinted pencil giveth shape to thesplendour of dreams,Near Florence, the fairest of cities, and Arno, ...
With musing mind I watch thee steal Above those envious clouds that hid ...
IDemeter devastated our good land,In blackness for her daughter snatched below.Smoke-pillar or loose hillock was the sand,Where soil had been ...
WITH silent step behold her steal Over those envious clouds that hidTill now her face, then stand-a seal ...
AY, in thy face, old fellow! Now's the time. The Black Sea wind flaps my tent-roof, nor wakes These lads ...
As the team's head-brass flashed out on the turnThe lovers disappeared into the wood.I sat among the boughs of the ...
See where the allied armies camped,Where plumed and painted dancers tramped—'Tis still the same, the same wild scene,As though the ...
World war had come - and gone. It seemed the end. Spent, broken, by the last despair oppressed,Unfitted to ...
There is music in the Mallee,Lilting music, soft and low,Like the songs in vale and valleyWhere the summer waters flow;But ...
No time shall want its verse superbly wrought,For aye sweet Poesy renews her youth,Hangs songs like hawthorn from the sharpest ...
(June 21st, 1887) By the well, where the bullocks go Silent and blind and slow -- By the field where ...
My garden blazes brightly with the rose-bush and the peach, And the koil sings above it, in the siris by ...
I If seasons all were summers, And leaves would never fall, And hopping casement-comers Were foodless not at all, And ...
Feet and faces tingle In that frore land: Legs wobble and go wingle, You scarce can stand. The skies are ...
ON TURNING ONE DOWN WITH THE PLOUGH, IN APRIL, 1786 Wee, modest, crimson-tipped flow'r, Thou's met me in an evil ...
I Many ingenious lovely things are gone That seemed sheer miracle to the multitude, protected from the circle of the ...
As the team's head-brass flashed out on the turn The lovers disappeared into the wood. I sat among the boughs ...
I AM that which began; Out of me the years roll; Out of me God and man; I am equal ...
Wreathe in a garland the corn's golden ear! With it, the Cyane blue intertwine Rapture must render each glance ...
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