Algernon Charles Swinburne

(5 April 1837 - 10 April 1909 / London)

Algernon Charles Swinburne Poems

1. In Guernsey - To Theodore Watts 1/1/2004
2. Messidor 1/1/2004
3. Armand Barbes 1/1/2004
4. A New Year's Message To Joseph Mazzini 1/1/2004
5. Monotones 1/1/2004
6. Prelude - Lohengrin 1/1/2004
7. Mater Dolorosa 1/1/2004
8. The Litany Of Nations 1/1/2004
9. The Roundel 1/1/2004
10. Recollections 1/1/2004
11. Three Faces 1/1/2004
12. In Sark 1/1/2004
13. Super Flumina Babylonis 1/1/2004
14. Insularum Ocelle 1/1/2004
15. A Year's Burden -- 1870 1/1/2004
16. Concord 1/1/2004
17. Perinde Ac Cadaver 1/1/2004
18. To Dora Dorian 1/1/2004
19. In The Bay 1/1/2004
20. Étude Réaliste (Excerpts) 1/1/2004
21. Christmas Antiphones 1/1/2004
22. On An Old Roundel 1/1/2004
23. Benediction 1/1/2004
24. Not A Child 1/1/2004
25. A Sequence Of Sonnets On The Death Of Robert Browning 1/1/2004
26. Ode On The Insurrection In Candia 1/1/2004
27. Dedication To Joseph Mazzini 1/1/2004
28. Plus Intra 1/1/2004
29. Discord 1/1/2004
30. The Halt Before Rome--September 1867 1/1/2004
31. In Memory Of Walter Savage Landor 1/1/2004
32. In San Lorenzo 1/1/2004
33. After Looking Into Carlyles Reminiscences 4/12/2010
34. Aholibah 4/12/2010
35. Anonymous Plays: Xvii 4/12/2010
36. Anonymous Plays: Xviii 4/12/2010
37. Anonymous Plays:Xvi - ‘arden Of Feversham’ 4/12/2010
38. Beaumont And Fletcher:Iv 4/12/2010
39. Ben Jonson: Iii 4/12/2010
40. Bismarck At Canossa: Sonnets 4/12/2010
Best Poem of Algernon Charles Swinburne

A Child's Laughter

ALL the bells of heaven may ring,
All the birds of heaven may sing,
All the wells on earth may spring,
All the winds on earth may bring
All sweet sounds together---
Sweeter far than all things heard,
Hand of harper, tone of bird,
Sound of woods at sundawn stirred,
Welling water's winsome word,
Wind in warm wan weather,

One thing yet there is, that none
Hearing ere its chime be done
Knows not well the sweetest one
Heard of man beneath the sun,
Hoped in heaven hereafter;
Soft and strong and loud and light,
Very sound of very ...

Read the full of A Child's Laughter

Wasted Love

What shall be done for sorrow
With love whose race is run?
Where help is none to borrow,
What shall be done?

In vain his hands have spun
The web, or drawn the furrow:
No rest their toil hath won.

His task is all gone thorough,
And fruit thereof is none:
And who dare say to-morrow
What shall be done?

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