Algernon Charles Swinburne

(5 April 1837 - 10 April 1909 / London)

Algernon Charles Swinburne Poems

1. Origami 11/5/2015
2. Hope And Fear 12/6/2014
3. A Baby's Feet 2/16/2015
4. Anonymous Plays: Xviii 4/12/2010
5. After Looking Into Carlyles Reminiscences 4/12/2010
6. Prelude - Lohengrin 1/1/2004
7. On The Russian Persecution Of The Jews: Sonnets 4/12/2010
8. May Janet 4/12/2010
9. To William Bell Scott 4/12/2010
10. The Litany Of Nations 1/1/2004
11. Anonymous Plays:Xvi - ‘arden Of Feversham’ 4/12/2010
12. Christmas Antiphones 1/1/2004
13. To Dr. John Brown: Sonnets 4/12/2010
14. Madona Mia 4/12/2010
15. Anonymous Plays: Xvii 4/12/2010
16. England Cxvii 4/12/2010
17. Quia Nominor Leo: Sonnets 4/12/2010
18. The Sea-Swallows 4/12/2010
19. The Tribe Of Benjamin: Xv 4/12/2010
20. Thomas Heywood: X 4/12/2010
21. Perinde Ac Cadaver 1/1/2004
22. A Sequence Of Sonnets On The Death Of Robert Browning 1/1/2004
23. Dedication To Joseph Mazzini 1/1/2004
24. Mater Dolorosa 1/1/2004
25. Siena 1/1/2004
26. Messidor 1/1/2004
27. On An Old Roundel 1/1/2004
28. Beaumont And Fletcher:Iv 4/12/2010
29. Ben Jonson: Iii 4/12/2010
30. Epilogue:Xxi 'Tristram Of Lyonesse' 4/12/2010
31. Dedication 4/12/2010
32. First Footsteps 4/12/2010
33. George Chapman:Xi 4/12/2010
34. On Lamb’s Specimens Of Dramatic Poets: Sonnets 4/12/2010
35. Philip Massinger: V 4/12/2010
36. Aholibah 4/12/2010
37. On The Downs 4/12/2010
38. The Masque Of Queen Bersabe: A Miracle-Play 4/12/2010
39. One Of Twain 1/1/2004
40. Concord 1/1/2004

Comments about Algernon Charles Swinburne

  • Jamie Mitchell (1/11/2018 11:56:00 AM)

    Didn't Swinburne write a poem about Oacar Wilde? This collection seems incomplete.

    2 person liked.
    1 person did not like.
  • Johnny Ringo (12/26/2013 11:43:00 PM)

    I love reading Swinburne, some of his works really speak to me and I can read them again and again.

  • Dianne Ross (1/22/2013 3:01:00 AM)

    No poet writes more exquisitely of love than dear Swinburne. I will always hold him close to my heart. He was devoted to his Queen.

Best Poem of Algernon Charles Swinburne

A Ballad Of Dreamland

I hid my heart in a nest of roses,
Out of the sun's way, hidden apart;
In a softer bed than the soft white snow's is,
Under the roses I hid my heart.
Why would it sleep not? why should it start,
When never a leaf of the rose-tree stirred?
What made sleep flutter his wings and part?
Only the song of a secret bird.

Lie still, I said, for the wind's wing closes,
And mild leaves muffle the keen sun's dart;
Lie still, for the wind on the warm seas dozes,
And the wind is unquieter yet than thou art.
Does a thought in thee still as a thorn's wound ...

Read the full of A Ballad Of Dreamland

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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