The Garden of Prosperine
Algernon Charles Swinburne

Here, where the world is quiet;
____Here, where all trouble seems
Dead winds' and spent waves' riot
____In doubtful dreams of dreams;
I watch the green field growing
For reaping folk and sowing,
For harvest time and mowing,
____A sleepy world of streams.

I am tired of tears and laughter,
____And men that laugh and weep;
Of what may come hereafter
____For men that sow to reap;
I am weary of days and hours,
Blown buds of barren flowers,
Desires and dreams and powers
____And everything but sleep.

Here life has death for neighbor,
____And far from eye or ear
Wan waves and wet winds labor,
____Weak ships and spirits steer;
They drive adrift, and whither
They wot not who make thither;
But no such winds blow hither,
____And no such things grow here.

No growth of moor or coppice,
____No heather flower or vine,
But bloomless buds of poppies,
____Green grapes of Proserpine,
Pale beds of blowing rushes,
Where no leaf blooms or blushes
Save this whereout she crushes
____For dead men deadly wine.

Pale, without name or number,
____In fruitless fields of corn,
They bow themselves and slumber
____All night till light is born;
And like a soul belated,
In hell and heaven unmated,
By cloud and mist abated
____Comes out of darkness morn.

Though one were strong as seven,
____He too with death shall dwell,
Nor wake with wings in heaven,
____Nor weep for pains in hell;
Though one were fair as roses,
His beauty clouds and closes;
And well though love reposes,
____In the end it is not well.

Pale, beyond porch and portal,
____Crowned with calm leaves, she stands
Who gathers all things mortal
____With cold immortal hands;
Her languid lips are sweeter
Than love's who fears to greet her
To men that mix and meet her
____From many times and lands.

She waits for each and other,
____She waits for all men born;
Forgets the earth her mother,
____The life of fruits and corn;
And spring and seed and swallow
Take wing for her and follow
Where summer song rings hollow
____And flowers are put to scorn.

There go the loves that wither,
____The old loves with wearier wings;
And all dead years draw thither,
____And all disastrous things;
Dead dreams of days forsaken,
Blind buds that snows have shaken,
Wild leaves that winds have taken,
____Red strays of ruined springs.

We are not sure of sorrow,
____And joy was never sure;
Today will die tomorrow;
____Time stoops to no man's lure;
And love, grown faint and fretful,
With lips but half regretful
Sighs, and with eyes forgetful
____Weeps that no loves endure.

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.

Then star nor sun shall waken,
____Nor any change of light:
Nor sound of waters shaken,
____Nor any sound or sight:
Nor wintry leaves nor vernal,
Nor days nor things diurnal;
Only the sleep eternal
____In an eternal night.

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