Thou hast conquered, O pale Galilean: The world has grown grey from thy breath! - Algernon Charles Swinburne

If you were Queen of pleasure
And I were King of pain
We'd hunt down Love together,
Pluck out his flying-feather,
And teach his feet a measure,
And find his mouth a rein;
If you were Queen of pleasure
And I were King of pain.

From too much love of living,
From hope and fear set free,
We thank with brief thanksgiving
Whatever gods may be
That no life lives forever;
That dead men rise up never;
That even the weariest river
Winds somewhere safe to sea.

You came, and the sun came after,
And the green grew golden above;
And the flag-flowers lightened with laughter,
And the meadowsweet shook with love