A blatant Bassarid of Boston, a rampant Maenad of Massachusetts.
Algernon Swinburne (1837 - 1909)
Source: Under the Microscope.
Contributed by: Zaady
Ah, yet would God this flesh of mine might be Where air might wash and long leaves cover me; Where tides of grass break into foam of flowers, Or where the wind's feet shine along the sea.
Source: Laus Veneris.
And lo, between the sundawn and the sun His day's work and his night's work are undone: And lo, between the nightfall and the light, He is not, and none knoweth of such an one.
And the best and the worst of this is That neither is most to blame, If you have forgotten my kisses And I have forgotten your name.
Source: An Interlude.
Thou has conquered, O pale Galilean.
Though our works Find righteous or unrighteous judgment, this At least is ours, to make them righteous.
Source: Marini Faliero. Act iii. Sc. .
A baby's feet, like sea-shells pink Might tempt, should heaven see meet, An angel's lips to kiss, we think, A baby's feet.
Source: Etude réalistique.
There grows No herb of help to heal a coward heart.
Source: Bothwell.Act ii. Sc. .
The delight that consumes the desire, The desire that outruns the delight.
To wipe off the froth of falsehood from the foaming lips of inebriated virtue, when fresh from the sexless orgies of morality and reeling from the delirious riot of religion, may doubtless be a charitable office.
Copyright © 2016 Gaiam, Inc.