The Garden Of Eros (Oscar Wilde Poems)
It is full summer now, the heart of June; Not yet the sunburnt reapers are astir Upon the upland meadow ...
It is full summer now, the heart of June; Not yet the sunburnt reapers are astir Upon the upland meadow ...
It is full winter now: the trees are bare, Save where the cattle huddle from the cold Beneath the pine, ...
Milton! I think thy spirit hath passed away From these white cliffs and high-embattled towers; This gorgeous fiery-coloured world of ...
Rome! what a scroll of History thine has been; In the first days thy sword republican Ruled the whole world ...
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