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Oscar Wilde

Oscar Wilde

Helas!
To drift with every passion till my soul
Is as a stringed lute on which all winds can play,
Is it for this that I have given away
Mine ancient wisdom and austere control?
Methinks my life is a twice—written scroll
Scrawled over on some boyish holiday
With idle songs for pipe and virelay,
Which do but mar the secret of the whole.
 
Surely there was a time I might have trod
The sunlit heights, and from life’s dissonance
Struck one clear chord to reach the ears of God:
Is that time dead? Lo! with a little rod
I did but touch the honey of romance—
And must I lose my soul’s inheritance?

#1897 #IrishWriters #TheBalladOfReadingGaol #Victorian

Other works by Oscar Wilde...
My Voice

Within this restless, hurried, mod… We took our hearts’ full pleasure—… And now the white sails of our shi… And spent the lading of our argosy… Wherefore my cheeks before their t…
 1
Italia

Italia! thou art fallen, though wi… Of battle—spears thy clamorous arm… From the north Alps to the Sicili… Ay! fallen, though the nations hai… Because rich gold in every town is…
 2
Panthea

Nay, let us walk from fire unto fi… From passionate pain to deadlier d… I am too young to live without des… Too young art thou to waste this s… Asking those idle questions which…
Written at the Lyceum Theatre III: Camma

As one who poring on a Grecian ur… Scans the fair shapes some Attic… God with slim goddess, goodly man… And for their beauty’s sake is lot… And face the obvious day, must I…
 1
Fantaisies Décoratives II: Les Ballons

Against these turbid turquoise ski… The light and luminous balloons Dip and drift like satin moons Drift like silken butterflies; Reel with every windy gust,
 2
The True Knowledge

Thou knowest all; I seek in vain What lands to till or sow with see… The land is black with briar and w… Nor cares for falling tears or rai… Thou knowest all; I sit and wait
 2
Urbs Sacra Æterna

Rome! what a scroll of History th… In the first days thy sword republ… Ruled the whole world for many an… Then of thy peoples thou wert crow… Till in thy streets the bearded G…
 1
Fantaisies Décoratives I: Le Panneau

Under the rose—tree’s dancing shad… There stands a little ivory girl, Pulling the leaves of pink and pea… With pale green nails of polished… The red leaves fall upon the mould…
 1
Louis Napoleon

Eagle of Austerlitz! where were t… When far away upon a barbarous str… In fight unequal, by an obscure ha… Fell the last scion of thy brood o… Poor boy! thou wilt not flaunt thy…
The Disciple

When Narcissus died the pool of h… sweet waters into a cup of salt te… through the woodland that they mig… comfort. And when they saw that the pool ha…
 1
Symphony in Yellow

An omnibus across the bridge Crawls like a yellow butterfly, And, here and therem a passer—by Shows like a little restless midge… Big barges full of yellow hay
 1
Santa Decca

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…
 1
An Inscriptionwith a Copy of ‘a House of Pomegranates’

Go little book, To him who, on a lute with horns o… Sang of the white feet of the Gol… And bid him look Into thy pages: it may hap that he
 1
Her Voice

The wild bee reels from bough to b… With his furry coat and his gauzy… Now in a lily—cup, and now Setting a jacinth bell a—swing, In his wandering;
 1
Pan

O goat—foot God of Arcady! This modern world is grey and old, And what remains to us of thee? No more the shepherd lads in glee Throw apples at thy wattled fold,
 2



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