Oscar Wilde

1854-1900 / Male / Irish
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The Garden Of ErosIt is full summer now, the heart of June; / Not yet the sunburnt reapers are astir / Upon the upland meadow where too soon
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The Burden Of ItysThis English Thames is holier far than Rome, / Those harebells like a sudden flush of sea / Breaking across the woodland, with the foam
348
30.1k
HumanitadIt is full winter now: the trees are bare, / Save where the cattle huddle from the cold / Beneath the pine, for it doth never wear
361
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RavennaNewdigate prize poem recited in the Sheldonian Theatre / Oxford June 26th, 1878. / To my friend George Fleming author of ‘The Nile Novel’
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Charmides IIBut some good Triton-god had ruth, and bare / The boy’s drowned body back to Grecian land, / And mermaids combed his dank and dripping hair
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Theocritus—A VillanelleO singer of Persephone! / In the dim meadows desolate / Dost thou remember Sicily?
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The Sphinx(To Marcel Schwob in friendship and in admiration) / In a dim corner of my room for longer than / my fancy thinks
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Phedre(To Sarah Bernhardt) / How vain and dull this common world must seem / To such a One as thou, who should’st have talked
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In The ForestOut of the mid-wood’s twilight / Into the meadow’s dawn, / Ivory limbed and brown-eyed,
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PantheaNay, let us walk from fire unto fire, / From passionate pain to deadlier delight,— / I am too young to live without desire,
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