Sonnet On Approaching Italy (Oscar Wilde Poems)
I reached the Alps: the soul within me burned, Italia, my Italia, at thy name: And when from out the ...
I reached the Alps: the soul within me burned, Italia, my Italia, at thy name: And when from out the ...
It is full winter now: the trees are bare, Save where the cattle huddle from the cold Beneath the pine, ...
I have no store Of gryphon-guarded gold; Now, as before, Bare is the shepherd's fold. Rubies nor pearls Have I ...
The sky is laced with fitful red, The circling mists and shadows flee, The dawn is rising from the sea, ...
The lily's withered chalice falls Around its rod of dusty gold, And from the beech-trees on the wold The last ...
The silver trumpets rang across the Dome: The people knelt upon the ground with awe: And borne upon the necks ...
I. The corn has turned from grey to red, Since first my spirit wandered forth From the drear cities of ...
(To L. L.) Could we dig up this long-buried treasure, Were it worth the pleasure, We never could learn love's ...
I am weary of lying within the chase When the knights are meeting in market-place. Nay, go not thou to ...
(In memoriam C. T. W. Sometime trooper of the Royal Horse Guards obiit H.M. prison, Reading, Berkshire July 7, 1896) ...
O beautiful star with the crimson mouth! O moon with the brows of gold! Rise up, rise up, from the ...
I. He was a Grecian lad, who coming home With pulpy figs and wine from Sicily Stood at his galley's ...
(To Ellen Terry) In the lone tent, waiting for victory, She stands with eyes marred by the mists of pain, ...
Was this His coming! I had hoped to see A scene of wondrous glory, as was told Of some great ...
The little white clouds are racing over the sky, And the fields are strewn with the gold of the flower ...
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