SWINBURNE
Algernon Swinburne, is there not in theeSomething akin to bells that ring at sea?In their sound so clearThere is little cheer,When their knell I hearI recoil with fear.Though thy voice be clear as the day’s light,It is pregnant with mystery, death, and night.
Algernon Swinburne, is there not in theeSomething akin to bells that ring at sea?In their sound so clearThere is little cheer,When their knell I hearI recoil with fear.Though thy voice be clear as the day’s light,It is pregnant with mystery, death, and night.
Algernon Swinburne, is there not in theeSomething akin to bells that ring at sea?In their sound so clearThere is little cheer,When their knell I hearI recoil with fear.Though thy voice be clear as the day’s light,It is pregnant with mystery, death, and night.
Algernon Swinburne, is there not in thee
Something akin to bells that ring at sea?
In their sound so clear
There is little cheer,
When their knell I hear
I recoil with fear.
Though thy voice be clear as the day’s light,
It is pregnant with mystery, death, and night.