Author: Algernon Charles Swinburne
Cited by
- Maggie Stiefvater (1)
- IN: The Raven King (2016) Fiction, Young Adult Fiction, American
EPIGRAPH: To sleep, to swim, and to dream, for ever.
FROM: A Swimmer's Dream, (1889), NULL, UK
- Reginald Hill (1)
- IN: Deadheads (1983) Fiction, American
EPIGRAPH: I shall never be friends again with roses.
FROM: The Triumph of Time, (1866), Poem, UK
- Kate Worsley (1)
- IN: She Rises (2013) Fiction, British
EPIGRAPH: I shall sleep, and move with the moving ships,
Change as the winds change, veer in the tide,
I will go back to the great sweet mother,
Mother and lover of men, the sea.
I will go down to her, I and no other,
Close with her, kiss her and mix her with me.
FROM: The Triumph of Time, (1866), Poem, UK
- Brian Freeman (1)
- IN: Stalked (2007) Fiction, American
EPIGRAPH: Where the dead red leaves of the years lie rotten,
The cold old crimes and the deeds thrown by,
The misconceived and the misbegotten,
I would find a sin to do ere I die.
FROM: The Triumph of Time, (1866), Poem, UK
- J. P. Francis (1)
- IN: The Major's Daughter (2014) Fiction, American
EPIGRAPH: For winter's rain and ruins are over.
And all the season of snows and sins,
The days dividing lover and lover,
The light that loses, the night that wins;
And time remembered is grief forgotten.
And frosts are slain and flowers begotten,
And in green underwood and cover
Blossom by blossom the spring begins.
FROM: Atalanta in Calydon, (1865), Poem, UK
- Kyril Bonfiglioli (1)
- IN: Something Nasty in the Woodshed (1976) Fiction, British
EPIGRAPH: Till the slow sea rise and the sheer cliff crumble,
Till terrace and meadow the deep gulfs drink,
Till the strength of the waves of the high tides humble
The fields that lessen, the rocks that shrink,
Here now in his triumph where all things falter,
Stretched out on the spoils that his own hand spread,
As a good self-slain on his own strange altar,
Death lies dead.
FROM: A Forsaken Garden, (1876), Poem, UK
- Mark Hodder (1)
- IN: The Secret of Abdu El Yezdi (2013) Fiction, British
EPIGRAPH: Hope thou not much, and fear thou not at all.
FROM: Hope and Fear, (1857), Poem, UK