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Oscar Wilde

Oscar Wilde

To my Wife

With a Copy of My Poems

I can write no stately proem
As a prelude to my lay;
From a poet to a poem
I would dare to say.
 
For if of these fallen petals
One to you seem fair,
Love will waft it till it settles
On your hair.
 
And when wind and winter harden
All the loveless land,
It will whisper of the garden,
You will understand.

#Gays #Irish #Victorians #XIXCentury #1897 #TheBalladOfReadingGaol

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The Gods are dead: no longer do w… To grey—eyed Pallas crowns of oli… Demeter’s child no more hath tithe… And in the noon the careless sheph… For Pan is dead, and all the want…
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Impressions I: Les Silhouettes

The sea is flecked with bars of gr… The dull dead wind is out of tune, And like a withered leaf the moon Is blown across the stormy bay. Etched clear upon the pallid sand
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How steep the stairs within Kings… For exile—wearied feet as mine to… And O how salt and bitter is the… Which falls from this Hound’s tab… That I had died in the red ways o…
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Roses and Rue

Could we dig up this long—buried t… Were it worth the pleasure, We never could learn love’s song, We are parted too long. Could the passionate past that is…
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