Thou sawest, in thine old singing season, brother,
Secrets and sorrows unbeheld of us:
Fierce loves, and lovely leaf-buds poisonous,
Bare to thy subtler eye, but for none other
Blowing by night in some unbreathed-in clime;
The hidden harvest of luxurious time,
Sin without shape, and pleasure without speech;
And where strange dreams in a tumultuous sleep
Make the shut eyes of stricken spirits weep;
And with each face thou sawest the shadow on each,
Seeing as men sow men reap.
Ave Atque Vale: 03
Algernon Charles Swinburne
(1)
Poem topics: brother, night, sleep, time, hidden, pleasure, shadow, speech, face, Season, shape, strange, fierce, thine, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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