Kneel down, fair Love, and fill thyself with tears, …
Algernon Charles Swinburne
Bird of the bitter bright grey golden morn …
There was a graven image of Desire …
Forth from Calais, at dawn of night, when sunset summer on autumn shone, …
In a coign of the cliff between lowland and highland, …
Let us go hence, my songs; she will not hear. …
I …
A month or twain to live on honeycomb …
Love, what ailed thee to leave life that was made lovely, we thought, with love? …
O heart of hearts, the chalice of love's fire, …
Dead love, by treason slain, lies stark, …
Cold eyelids that hide like a jewel …
Lean back, and get some minutes' peace; …
Yea, thou shalt be forgotten like spilt wine, …
In the month of the long decline of roses …
I am that which began; …
I have lived long enough, having seen one thing, that love hath an end; …
Back to the flower-town, side by side, …
Leave go my hands, let me catch breath and see; …
Swallow, my sister, O sister swallow, …
Asleep or waking is it? for her neck, …
Lying asleep between the strokes of night …
From the depth of the dreamy decline of the dawn through a notable nimbus of nebulous noonshine, …
All the night sleep came not upon my eyelids, …
I saw my soul at rest upon a day …
There is no woman living that draws breath …
Men, brother men, that after us yet live, …
Here, where the world is quiet; …
One, who is not, we see: but one, whom we see not, is: …
Ask nothing more of me, sweet; …
Who is your lady of love, O ye that pass …
A roundel is wrought as a ring or a starbright sphere, …
Before our lives divide for ever, …