ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE
Content thee, howsoe'er, whose days are done; There lies not any troublous thing before, Nor sight nor sound to war against thec more,
For whom all winds are quiet as the sun, All waters as the shore.
��815 From 'Before the Mirror*
GLAD, but not flush 'd with gladness, Since joys go by; Sad, but not bent with sadness,
Since sorrows die, Deep in the gleaming glass She sees all past things pass,
And all sweel life that was lie down and lie.
There glowing ghosts of flowers
Draw down, draw nigh; And wings of swift spent hours
Take flight and fly; She sees by foimless gleams, She hears across cold streams,
Dead mouths of many dreams that sing and sigh.
Face fallen and white throat lifted,
With sleepless eye She sees old loves that drifted,
She knew not why, Old loves and faded fears Float down a stream that hears
The flowing of all men's tears beneath the sky.
�� �
