Now the days are all gone over
Of our singing, love by lover,
Days of summer‑coloured seas
Blown adrift through beam and breeze.
Now the nights are all past over
Of our dreaming, dreams that hover
In a mist of fair false things,
Nights afloat on wide wan wings.
Now the loves with faith for mother,
Now the fears with hope for brother,
Scarce are with us as strange words,
Notes from songs of last year's birds.
Now all good that comes or goes is
As the smell of last year's roses,
As the radiance in our eyes
Shot from summer's ere he dies.
Now the morning faintlier risen
Seems no God come forth of prison,
But a bird of plume‑plucked wing,
Pale with thoughts of evening.
Now hath hope, outraced in running,
Given the torch up of his cunning
And the palm he thought to wear
Even to his own strong child—despair.
We are busy working to bring Algernon Charles Swinburne's "Pastiche" to life through our unique musical arrangements and will have a full analysis of the poem here for you soon.
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This creative journey takes time—each composition represents hours of dedicated work to create something that deepens our connection to Algernon Charles Swinburne's words in meaningful ways.
While you wait for our complete interpretation, we invite you to explore other musical arrangements in our gallery or learn more about Algernon Charles Swinburne's life and contributions to literature.
Check back soon to experience how "Pastiche" transforms when verse meets melody—a unique journey that makes poetry accessible, engaging, and profoundly moving in new ways.