For the crown of our life as it closes Is darkness, the fruit thereof dust; No thorns go as deep as a rose's, And love is more cruel than lust. Time turns the old days to derision, Our loves into corpses or wives; And marriage and death and division Make barren our lives.
Interpretation
This quote explores the complexities of love, suggesting that it can be both beautiful and deeply painful.
In this poignant reflection, Swinburne contemplates the darker aspects of love and life, likening love's intensity to a rose's thorns, which can cause deep pain. He highlights how time transforms our cherished memories into mockery, turning love into loss or mere obligation, and emphasizes the inevitability of sorrow in both marriage and mortality, suggesting that these experiences can leave life feeling barren.
In practice
During a wedding toast, one might reflect on the complexity of love with this quote.
The highest spiritual quality, the noblest property of mind a man can have, is this of loyalty ... a man with no loyalty in him, with no sense of love or reverence or devotion due to something outside and above his poor daily life, with its pains and pleasures, profits and losses, is as evil a case as man can be.
There is no such thing as a dumb poet or a handless painter. The essence of an artist is that he should be articulate.
Wan February with weeping cheer,_x000D_ _x000D_ Whose cold hand guides the youngling year_x000D_ _x000D_ Down misty roads of mire and rime,_x000D_ _x000D_ Before thy pale and fitful face_x000D_ _x000D_ The shrill wind shifts the clouds apace_x000D_ _x000D_ Through skies the morning scarce may climb._x000D_ _x000D_ Thine eyes are thick with heavy tears,_x000D_ _x000D_ But lit with hopes that light the year's.
Before the beginning of years There came to the making of man Time with a gift of tears, Grief with a glass that ran, Pleasure with pain for leaven, Summer with flowers that fell, Remembrance fallen from heaven, And Madness risen from hell, Strength without hands to smite, Love that endures for a breath; Night, the shadow of light, And Life, the shadow of death.
I that have love and no more_x000D_ _x000D_ Give you but love of you, sweet;_x000D_ _x000D_ He that hath more, let him give;_x000D_ _x000D_ He that hath wings, let him soar;_x000D_ _x000D_ Mine is the heart at your feet_x000D_ _x000D_ Here, that must love you to live.
For winter's rains 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 isgrief forgotten, And frosts are slain and flowers begotten, And in green underwood and cover Blossom by blossom the spring begins.
Love prefers twilight to daylight.
Rarity gives a charm; so early fruits and winter roses are the most prized; and coyness sets off an extravagant mistress, while the door always open tempts no suitor.
Merit consists in the virtue of love alone, flavored with the light of true discretion without which the soul is worth nothing.
And writers say, as the most forward bud_x000D_ _x000D_ Is eaten by the canker ere it blow,_x000D_ _x000D_ Even so by love the young and tender wit_x000D_ _x000D_ Is turn'd to folly, blasting in the bud,_x000D_ _x000D_ Losing his verdure even in the prime,_x000D_ _x000D_ And all the fair effects of future hopes.
Through love scraps of copper are turned to gold.
Does not all the blood within me_x000D_ _x000D_ Leap to meet thee, leap to meet thee,_x000D_ _x000D_ As the springs to meet the sunshine.
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