Algernon Charles Swinburne

This
I ever held worse that all certitude,
To know not what the worst ahead might be.

This
I ever held worse that all certitude,
To know not what the worst ahead might be.

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

From too much love of living,
From hope and fear set free,
We thank with brief thanksgiving
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From too much love of living,
From hope and fear set free,
We thank with brief thanksgiving
Whatever gods may be
That no life lives forever;
That dead men rise up never;
That even the weariest river
Winds somewhere safe to sea.

Between the two seas the sea-bird's wing makes halt,
Wind-weary; while with lifting head he waits
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Between the two seas the sea-bird's wing makes halt,
Wind-weary; while with lifting head he waits
For breath to reinspire him from the gates
That open still toward sunrise on the vault
High-domed of morning.
- Algernon Charles Swinburne,

Prince, give praise to our French ladies
For the sweet sound their speaking carries;
'Twixt Rome and read more

Prince, give praise to our French ladies
For the sweet sound their speaking carries;
'Twixt Rome and Cadiz many a maid is,
But no good girl's lip out of Paris.
- Algernon Charles Swinburne,