Algernon Charles Swinburne

(5 April 1837 - 10 April 1909 / London)

Algernon Charles Swinburne Poems

41. Insularum Ocelle 1/1/2004
42. On The Downs 4/12/2010
43. The Masque Of Queen Bersabe: A Miracle-Play 4/12/2010
44. One Of Twain 1/1/2004
45. In San Lorenzo 1/1/2004
46. Concord 1/1/2004
47. St. Dorothy 4/12/2010
48. In Sark 1/1/2004
49. The Roundel 1/1/2004
50. Hesperia 4/12/2010
51. Before Parting 4/12/2010
52. The Death Of Richard Wagner 1/1/2004
53. An Appeal 1/1/2004
54. In Memory Of Walter Savage Landor 1/1/2004
55. Thomas Middleton: Ix 4/12/2010
56. Adieux À Marie Stuart 4/12/2010
57. The Halt Before Rome--September 1867 1/1/2004
58. To Dora Dorian 1/1/2004
59. The Litany Of Nations 1/1/2004
60. Mentana : First Anniversary 1/1/2004
61. Change 1/1/2004
62. Song Before Death: From The French 4/12/2010
63. For A Picture 4/12/2010
64. John Day: Xiii 4/12/2010
65. Let Us Go 4/12/2010
66. On The Deaths Of Thomas Carlyle And George Eliot: Sonnets 4/12/2010
67. The Epitaph In Form Of A Ballad Which Villon Made For Himself And His Comrades, Expecting To Be Hanged Along With Them 4/12/2010
68. Prelude 1/1/2004
69. Choriambics 4/12/2010
70. Les Noyades 4/12/2010
71. The Two Dreams 4/12/2010
72. Dysthanatos 4/12/2010
73. Mater Triumphalis 1/1/2004
74. Bismarck At Canossa: Sonnets 4/12/2010
75. Sir William Gomm: Sonnets 4/12/2010
76. Eight Years Old 4/12/2010
77. Christopher Marlowe 1/3/2003
78. The Song Of The Standard 1/1/2004
79. April 4/12/2010
80. The Pilgrims 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

The Way Of The Wind

The wind's way in the deep sky's hollow
None may measure, as none can say
How the heart in her shows the swallow
The wind's way.

Hope nor fear can avail to stay
Waves that whiten on wrecks that wallow,
Times and seasons that wane and slay.

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