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    Songs of the Springtides and Birthday Ode Taken from The Collected Poetical Works of Algernon Charles Swinburne—Vol. III
    Songs of the Springtides and Birthday Ode Taken from The Collected Poetical Works of Algernon Charles Swinburne—Vol. III
    Songs of the Springtides and Birthday Ode Taken from The Collected Poetical Works of Algernon Charles Swinburne—Vol. III
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    Songs of the Springtides and Birthday Ode Taken from The Collected Poetical Works of Algernon Charles Swinburne—Vol. III

    By Algernon Charles Swinburne

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    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherArchive Classics
    Release dateNov 25, 2013
    Songs of the Springtides and Birthday Ode Taken from The Collected Poetical Works of Algernon Charles Swinburne—Vol. III

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      Songs of the Springtides and Birthday Ode Taken from The Collected Poetical Works of Algernon Charles Swinburne—Vol. III - Algernon Charles Swinburne

      The Project Gutenberg EBook of Songs of the Springtides and Birthday Ode, by

      Algernon Charles Swinburne

      This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with

      almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or

      re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included

      with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org

      Title: Songs of the Springtides and Birthday Ode

      Taken from The Collected Poetical Works of Algernon Charles

      Swinburne--Vol. III

      Author: Algernon Charles Swinburne

      Release Date: April 30, 2006 [EBook #18287]

      Language: English

      *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SONGS OF THE SPRINGTIDES ***

      Produced by Paul Murray, Diane Monico, and the Project

      Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team at

      http://www.pgdp.net.

      SONGS OF THE SPRINGTIDES

      BIRTHDAY ODE

      Taken from

      THE COLLECTED POETICAL WORKS

      OF ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE,

      VOL. III

      By

      Algernon Charles Swinburne

      SWINBURNE'S POETICAL WORKS

      LONDON: WILLIAM HEINEMANN

      SONGS OF THE SPRINGTIDES

      BIRTHDAY ODE

      By

      Algernon Charles Swinburne

      1917

      LONDON: WILLIAM HEINEMANN

      First printed (Chatto), 1904

      Reprinted 1904, '09, '10, '12

      (Heinemann), 1917

      London: William Heinemann, 1917

      SONGS OF THE SPRINGTIDES

      SONGS OF THE SPRINGTIDES

      DEDICATION

      TO EDWARD JOHN TRELAWNY

      A sea-mew on a sea-king's wrist alighting,

      As the north sea-wind caught and strained and curled

      The raven-figured flag that led men fighting

      From field to green field of the water-world,

      Might find such brief high favour at his hand

      For wings imbrued with brine, with foam impearled,

      As these my songs require at yours on land,

      That durst not save for love's free sake require,

      Being lightly born between the foam and sand,

      But reared by hope and memory and desire

      Of lives that were and life that is to be,

      Even such as filled his heavenlier song with fire

      Whose very voice, that sang to set man free,

      Was in your ears as ever in ours his lyre,

      Once, ere the flame received him from the sea.

      THALASSIUS

      Upon the flowery forefront of the year,

      One wandering by the grey-green April sea

      Found on a reach of shingle and shallower sand

      Inlaid with starrier glimmering jewellery

      Left for the sun's love and the light wind's cheer

      Along the foam-flowered strand

      Breeze-brightened, something nearer sea than land

      Though the last shoreward blossom-fringe was near,

      A babe asleep with flower-soft face that gleamed

      To sun and seaward as it laughed and dreamed,

      Too sure of either love for either's fear,

      Albeit so birdlike slight and light, it seemed

      Nor man nor mortal child of man, but fair

      As even its twin-born tenderer spray-flowers were,

      That the wind scatters like an Oread's hair.

      For when July strewed fire on earth and sea

      The last time ere that year,

      Out of the flame of morn Cymothoe

      Beheld one brighter than the sunbright sphere

      Move toward her from its fieriest heart, whence trod

      The live sun's very God,

      Across the foam-bright water-ways that are

      As heavenlier heavens with star for answering star,

      And on her eyes and hair and maiden mouth

      Felt a kiss falling fierier than the South

      And heard above afar

      A noise of songs and wind-enamoured wings

      And lutes and lyres of milder and mightier strings,

      And round the resonant radiance of his car

      Where depth is one with height,

      Light heard as music, music seen as light.

      And with that second moondawn of the spring's

      That fosters the first rose,

      A sun-child whiter than the sunlit snows

      Was born out of the world of sunless things

      That round the round earth flows and ebbs and flows.

      But he that found the sea-flower by the sea

      And took to foster like a graft of earth

      Was born of man's most highest and heavenliest birth,

      Free-born as winds and stars and waves are free;

      A warrior grey with glories more than years,

      Though more of years than change the quick to dead

      Had rained their light and darkness on his head;

      A singer that in time's and memory's ears

      Should leave such words to sing as all his peers

      Might praise with hallowing heat of rapturous tears

      Till all the days of human flight were fled.

      And at his knees his fosterling was fed

      Not with man's wine and bread

      Nor mortal mother-milk of hopes and fears,

      But food of deep memorial days long sped;

      For bread with wisdom and with song for wine

      Clear as the full calm's emerald hyaline.

      And from his grave glad lips the boy would gather

      Fine honey of song-notes goldener than gold,

      More sweet than bees make of the breathing heather,

      That he, as glad and bold,

      Might drink as they, and keep his spirit from cold.

      And the boy loved his laurel-laden hair

      As his own father's risen on the eastern air,

      And that less white brow-binding bayleaf bloom

      More than all flowers his father's eyes relume;

      And those high songs he heard,

      More than all notes of any landward bird,

      More than all sounds

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