Algernon Charles Swinburne (Алджернон Чарльз Суинбёрн)
Wasted Love
What shall be done for sorrow With love whose race is run? Where help is none to borrow, What shall be done? In vain his hands have spun The web, or drawn the furrow: No rest their toil hath won. His task is all gone thorough, And fruit thereof is none: And who dare say to-morrow What shall be done?
Algernon Charles Swinburne’s other poems:
