Sonnets on English Dramatic Poets (1590-1650): Epilogue

Our mother, which wast twice, as history saith,
Found first among the nations: once, when she
Who bore thine ensign saw the God in thee
Smite Spain, and bring forth Shakespeare: once, when death
Shrank, and Romes bloodhounds cowered, at Miltons breath:
More than thy place, then first among the free,
More than that sovereign lordship of the sea
Bequeathed to Cromwell from Elizabeth,
More than thy fiery guiding- star, which Drake
Hailed, and the deep saw lit again for Blake,
More than all deeds wrought of thy strong right hand,
This praise keeps most thy fames memorial strong,
That thou wast head of all these streams of song,
And time bows down to thee as Shakespeares land.

Algernon Charles Swinburne

Algernon Charles Swinburne was an English poet, playwright, novelist, and critic. Born on April 5, 1837, in London, he became known for his innovative versification and erotic content. Swinburne was a central figure in the aesthetic and decadent movements. His major works include 'Poems and Ballads' and 'Atalanta in Calydon.' He died on April 10, 1909, in Putney, London. Swinburne's legacy is marked by his lyrical mastery and controversial themes, influencing countless poets thereafter.

Algernon Charles Swinburne

On the Death of Sir Henry Taylor

Algernon Charles Swinburne, Simple Poetry

Pan and Thalassius

Algernon Charles Swinburne, Simple Poetry

In a Rosary

Algernon Charles Swinburne, Simple Poetry

A Childs Laughter

Algernon Charles Swinburne, Simple Poetry

English

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Sonnets on English Dramatic Poets (1590-1650): Anonymous Plays: Arden of Feversham

Mother whose womb brought forth our man of men,
Mother of Shakespeare, whom all time acclaims
Queen therefore, sovereign queen of English dames,
Throned higher than sat thy sonless empress then,
Was it thy sons young passion-guided pen
Which drew, reflected from encircling flames,
A figure marked by the earlier of thy names
Wife, and from all her wedded kinswomen
Marked by the sign of murderess? Pale and great,
Great in her grief and sin, but in her death
And anguish of her penitential breath
Greater than all her sin or sin-born fate,
She stands, the holocaust of dark desire,
Clothed round with song for ever as with fire.

Algernon Charles Swinburne

Prologue to The Duchess of Malfy

When Shakespeare soared from life to death, above
All praise, all adoration, save of love,
As here on earth above all men he stood
That were or are or shall be, great, and good,
Past thank or thought of England or of man,
Light from the sunset quickened as it ran.
His word, who sang as never man may sing
And spake as never voice of man may ring,
Not fruitless fell, as seed on sterile ways,
But brought forth increase even to Shakespeare's praise.
Our skies were thrilled and filled, from sea to sea,
With stars outshining all their suns to be.
No later light of tragic song they knew
Like his whose lightning clove the sunset through.
Half Shakespeare's glory, when his hand sublime
Bade all the change of tragic life and time
Live, and outlive all date of quick and ...

Algernon Charles Swinburne

Sonnets on English Dramatic Poets (1590-1650): William Shakespeare

Not if men's tongues and angels' all in one
Spake, might the word be said that might speak Thee.
Streams, winds, woods, flowers, fields, mountains, yea, the sea,
What power is in them all to praise the sun?
His praise is this,he can be praised of none.
Man, woman, child, praise God for him; but he
Exults not to be worshipped, but to be.
He is; and, being, beholds his work well done.
All joy, all glory, all sorrow, all strength, all mirth,
Are his: without him, day were night on earth.
Time knows not his from time's own period.
All lutes, all harps, all viols, all flutes, all lyres,
Fall dumb before him ere one string suspires.
All stars are angels; but the sun is God.

Algernon Charles Swinburne

Sonnets on English Dramatic Poets (1590-1650): Christopher Marlowe

Crowned, girdled, garbed and shod with light and fire,
Son first-born of the morning, sovereign star!
Soul nearest ours of all, that wert most far,
Most far off in the abysm of time, thy lyre
Hung highest above the dawn-enkindled quire
Where all ye sang together, all that are,
And all the starry songs behind thy car
Rang sequence, all our souls acclaim thee sire.

If all the pens that ever poets held
Had fed the feeling of their masters thoughts,
And as with rush of hurtling chariots
The flight of all their spirits were impelled
Toward one great end, thy glory, nay, not then,
Not yet mightst thou be praised enough of men.

Algernon Charles Swinburne

Sonnets on English Dramatic Poets (1590-1650): The Many

I.

Greene, garlanded with Februarys few flowers,
Ere March came in with Marlowes rapturous rage:
Peele, from whose hand the sweet white locks of age
Took the mild chaplet woven of honoured hours:
Nash, laughing hard: Lodge, flushed from lyric bowers:
And Lilly, a goldfinch in a twisted cage
Fed by some gay great ladys pettish page
Till short sweet songs gush clear like short spring showers
Kid, whose grim sport still gambolled over graves:
And Chettle, in whose fresh funereal verse
Weeps Marian yet on Robins wildwood hearse:
Cooke, whose light boat of song one soft breath saves,
Sighed from a maidens amorous mouth averse:
Live likewise ye: Time takes not you for slaves.



II.

Haughton, whose mirth gave woman all her will:
...

Algernon Charles Swinburne

Sonnets on English Dramatic Poets (1590-1650): Anonymous Plays

More yet and more, and yet we mark not all:
The Warning fain to bid fair women heed
Its hard brief note of deadly doom and deed;¹
The verse that strewed too thick with flowers the hall
Whence Nero watched his fiery festival;²
That iron page wherein mens eyes who read
See, bruised and marred between two babes that bleed,
A mad red-handed husbands martyr fall;³
The scene which crossed and streaked with mirth the strife
Of Henry with his sons and witchlike wife;⁴
And that sweet pageant of the kindly fiend,
Who, seeing three friends in spirit and heart made one,
Crowned with good hap the true-love wiles he screened
In the pleached lanes of pleasant Edmonton.⁵

Algernon Charles Swinburne