Flower of Love (Oscar Wilde Poems)
Sweet, I blame you not, for mine the fault was, had I not been made of commonclayI had climbed the ...
Sweet, I blame you not, for mine the fault was, had I not been made of commonclayI had climbed the ...
These are the letters which Endymion wroteTo one he loved in secret and apart,And now the brawlers of the auction-martBargain ...
These are the letters which Endymion wrote To one he loved in secret, and apart. And now the brawlers of ...
I. He was a Grecian lad, who coming home With pulpy figs and wine from Sicily Stood at his galley's ...
It is full summer now, the heart of June; Not yet the sunburnt reapers are astir Upon the upland meadow ...
(Newdigate prize poem recited in the Sheldonian Theatre Oxford June 26th, 1878. To my friend George Fleming author of 'The ...
It is full winter now: the trees are bare, Save where the cattle huddle from the cold Beneath the pine, ...
These are the letters which Endymion wrote To one he loved in secret, and apart. And now the brawlers of ...
Oft have we trod the vales of Castaly And heard sweet notes of sylvan music blown From antique reeds to ...
Where hast thou been since round the walls of Troy The sons of God fought in that great emprise? Why ...
Is it thy will that I should wax and wane, Barter my cloth of gold for hodden grey, And at ...
Nay, let us walk from fire unto fire, From passionate pain to deadlier delight, - I am too young to ...
This English Thames is holier far than Rome, Those harebells like a sudden flush of sea Breaking across the woodland, ...
(To Ellen Terry) As one who poring on a Grecian urn Scans the fair shapes some Attic hand hath made, ...
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