Oscar Wilde

(1854-1900 / Dublin / Ireland)

Oscar Wilde Poems

81. Sonnet Written In Holy Week At Genoa 12/31/2002
82. Symphony In Yellow 1/3/2003
83. Tadium Vita 5/18/2001
84. Taedium Vitae 1/3/2003
85. The Artist 2/9/2015
86. The Ballad Of Reading Gaol 5/18/2001
87. The Burden Of Itys 5/18/2001
88. The Disciple 4/1/2010
89. The Doer Of Good 4/1/2010
90. The Dole Of The King's Daughter (Breton) 1/3/2003
91. The Garden Of Eros 5/18/2001
92. The Grave Of Keats 5/18/2001
93. The Grave Of Shelley 5/18/2001
94. The Harlot's House 1/3/2003
95. The House Of Judgement 4/1/2010
96. The Master 4/1/2010
97. The New Helen 5/18/2001
98. The New Remorse 1/3/2003
99. The Sphinx 1/3/2003
100. The Teacher Of Wisdom 4/1/2010
101. The True Knowledge 1/3/2003
102. Theocritus 5/18/2001
103. Theoretikos 5/18/2001
104. To Milton 5/18/2001
105. To My Wife 1/3/2003
106. Tristitiae 1/3/2003
107. Under The Balcony 1/3/2003
108. Urbs Sacra Æterna 5/18/2001
109. Vita Nuova 5/18/2001
110. We Are Made One with What We Touch and See -new- 4/20/2015
Best Poem of Oscar Wilde

Her Voice

THE wild bee reels from bough to bough
With his furry coat and his gauzy wing.
Now in a lily-cup, and now
Setting a jacinth bell a-swing,
In his wandering;
Sit closer love: it was here I trow
I made that vow,

Swore that two lives should be like one
As long as the sea-gull loved the sea,
As long as the sunflower sought the sun,--
It shall be, I said, for eternity
...

Read the full of Her Voice

Santa Decca

THE Gods are dead: no longer do we bring
To grey-eyed Pallas crowns of olive-leaves!
Demeter's child no more hath tithe of sheaves,
And in the noon the careless shepherds sing,
For Pan is dead, and all the wantoning
By secret glade and devious haunt is o'er:
Young Hylas seeks the water-springs no more;
Great Pan is dead, and Mary's Son is King.

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