A Century of Roundels

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Author: Algernon Charles Swinburne

II.

Nay, but rest is born of me for healing,
- So might haply time, with voice represt,
Speak: is grief the last gift of my dealing?
Nay, but rest.

All the world is wearied, east and west,
Tired with toil to watch the slow sun wheeling,
Twelve loud hours of life’s laborious quest.

Eyes forspent with vigil, faint and reeling,
Find at last my comfort, and are blest,
Not with rapturous light of life’s revealing -
Nay, but rest.

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Chicago: Algernon Charles Swinburne, "2," A Century of Roundels, ed. Sutherland, Alexander, 1853-1902 and trans. Seaton, R. C. in A Century of Roundels (New York: George E. Wood, ""Death-bed"" edition, 1892), Original Sources, accessed August 11, 2022, http://www.originalsources.com/Document.aspx?DocID=4T75FJBUN9SKCCB.

MLA: Swinburne, Algernon Charles. "2." A Century of Roundels, edited by Sutherland, Alexander, 1853-1902, and translated by Seaton, R. C., in A Century of Roundels, New York, George E. Wood, ""Death-bed"" edition, 1892, Original Sources. 11 Aug. 2022. http://www.originalsources.com/Document.aspx?DocID=4T75FJBUN9SKCCB.

Harvard: Swinburne, AC, '2' in A Century of Roundels, ed. and trans. . cited in ""Death-bed"" edition, 1892, A Century of Roundels, George E. Wood, New York. Original Sources, retrieved 11 August 2022, from http://www.originalsources.com/Document.aspx?DocID=4T75FJBUN9SKCCB.