Algernon Charles Swinburne

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,

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.

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.

Love lies bleeding in the bed whereover
Roses lean with smiling mouths or pleading:
Earth lies laughing read more

Love lies bleeding in the bed whereover
Roses lean with smiling mouths or pleading:
Earth lies laughing where the sun's dart clove her:
Love lies bleeding.

Sark, fairer than aught in the world that the lit skies cover,
Laughs inly behind her cliffs, and the read more

Sark, fairer than aught in the world that the lit skies cover,
Laughs inly behind her cliffs, and the seafarers mark
As a shrine where the sunlight serves, though the blown clouds
hover, Sark.