Algernon Charles Swinburne

(5 April 1837 - 10 April 1909 / London)

Algernon Charles Swinburne Poems

81. April 4/12/2010
82. The Pilgrims 1/1/2004
83. Before Sunset 1/1/2004
84. In Guernsey - To Theodore Watts 1/1/2004
85. Fragoletta 4/12/2010
86. After Death 4/12/2010
87. Plus Ultra 1/1/2004
88. Thomas Decker: Viii 4/12/2010
89. Dedication To Christina G. Rossetti 1/1/2004
90. To Catullus 1/1/2004
91. Rondel 4/12/2010
92. Félise 4/12/2010
93. In The Orchard 4/12/2010
94. Satia Te Sanguine 4/12/2010
95. March: An Ode 4/12/2010
96. The Sundew 4/12/2010
97. Seven Years Old 4/12/2010
98. Étude Réaliste (Excerpts) 1/1/2004
99. Lines On The Death Of Edward John Trelawny 4/12/2010
100. Ilicet 4/12/2010
101. Discord 1/1/2004
102. The Channel Tunnel: Sonnets 4/12/2010
103. Dickens: Sonnets 4/12/2010
104. To John Nichol: Sonnets 4/12/2010
105. Monotones 1/1/2004
106. The Salt Of The Earth 4/12/2010
107. August 4/12/2010
108. Plus Intra 1/1/2004
109. Rest 4/12/2010
110. Marzo Pazzo 1/1/2004
111. A Year's Burden -- 1870 1/1/2004
112. Benediction 1/1/2004
113. Not A Child 1/1/2004
114. The King's Daughter 4/12/2010
115. A Song In Time Of Revolution. 1860 4/12/2010
116. Ode On The Insurrection In Candia 1/1/2004
117. In The Bay 1/1/2004
118. A New Year's Message To Joseph Mazzini 1/1/2004
119. Envoi 1/1/2004
120. Super Flumina Babylonis 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

Birth And Death

Birth and death, twin-sister and twin-brother,
Night and day, on all things that draw breath,
Reign, while time keeps friends with one another
Birth and death.

Each brow-bound with flowers diverse of wreath,
Heaven they hail as father, earth as mother,
Faithful found above them and beneath.

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