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1837–1909

NINTH ANTIPHONE

Algernon Charles Swinburne

In that hour thou shalt say to the night, Come down and cover us; To the cloud on thy left and thy right, Be thou spread over us;

A snare shall be as thy mother, And a curse thy bride; Thou shalt put her away, and another Shall lie by thy side.

Thou shalt neither rise up by day Nor lie down by night; Would God it were dark! thou shalt say; Would God it were light!

And the sight of thine eyes shall be made As the burning of fire; And thy soul shall be sorely afraid For thy soul's desire.

Ye whom your lords loved well, Putting silver and gold on you, The inevitable hell Shall surely take hold on you;

Your gold shall be for a token, Your staff for a rod; With the breaking of bands ye are broken, Saith the Lord God.

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NINTH ANTIPHONE · Algernon Charles Swinburne · Poetry Cove