 | Algernon Charles Swinburne - 1866 - 240 pages
...rind inwards, and my pulses go Like fits of singing when the head gives way And leaves pure naught to stammer in spoilt lips,' Even for this and my sad...burns me to see like gold Burnt to pure heat ; your color seen turns in me To pain and plague upon the temple-vein That aches as if the sun's heat snapt... | |
 | Algernon Charles Swinburne - Poets, English - 1926 - 446 pages
...weeping words And famish and forget. Pray you go now, I am the abuse of your compassion. KING HENRY I am gone presently ; but for this space Give me poor...Burnt to pure heat ; your colour seen turns in me That aches as if the sun's heat snapt the blood In hot mid measure ; I could cry on you Like a maid... | |
 | Georges Lafourcade - 1928 - 638 pages
...par l'excès de sa beauté même. C'est ainsi que Henri exprime les sentiments qu'elle lui inspire : God help ! your hair burns me to see like gold Burnt...colour seen turns in me To pain and plague upon the temple vein That aches as if the sun's heat snapt the blood In hot mid-measure ; I could cry on you... | |
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I could cry on you Like a maid weeping-wise, you are so fair It hurts me in the head, makes the life sick Here in my hands, that one may see how beats Feverous blue upon my finger-tips. 