Algernon Charles Swinburne

No blast of air or fire of sun
Puts out the light whereby we run
With girdled read more

No blast of air or fire of sun
Puts out the light whereby we run
With girdled loins our lamplit race,
And each from each takes heart of grace
And spirit till his turn be done.

Sark, fairer than aught in the world that the lit skies cover,
Laughs inly behind her cliffs, and the read more

Sark, fairer than aught in the world that the lit skies cover,
Laughs inly behind her cliffs, and the seafarers mark
As a shrine where the sunlight serves, though the blown clouds
hover, Sark.

Thou hast conquered, O pale Galilean;
The world has grown gray from thy breath;
We have drunken read more

Thou hast conquered, O pale Galilean;
The world has grown gray from thy breath;
We have drunken from things Lethean,
And fed on the fullness of death.

Heart's ease of pansy, pleasure or thought,
Which would the picture give us of these?
Surely the read more

Heart's ease of pansy, pleasure or thought,
Which would the picture give us of these?
Surely the heart that conceived it sought
Heart's ease.

In fierce March weather
White waves break tether,
And whirled together
At either hand,
read more

In fierce March weather
White waves break tether,
And whirled together
At either hand,
Like weeds uplifted,
The tree-trunks rifted
In spars are drifted,
Like foam or sand.