Oscar Wilde

(1854-1900 / Dublin / Ireland)

Queen Henrietta Maria - Poem by Oscar Wilde

IN the lone tent, waiting for victory,
She stands with eyes marred by the mists of pain,
Like some wan lily overdrenched with rain:
The clamorous clang of arms, the ensanguined sky,
War's ruin, and the wreck of chivalry,
To her proud soul no common fear can bring:
Bravely she tarrieth for her Lord the King,
Her soul a-flame with passionate ecstasy.
O Hair of Gold! O Crimson Lips! O Face
Made for the luring and the love of man!
With thee I do forget the toil and stress,
The loveless road that knows no resting place,
Time's straitened pulse, the soul's dread weariness,
My freedom and my life republican!


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Read poems about / on: freedom, war, rain, hair, fear, pain, sky, time, life



Poem Submitted: Friday, May 18, 2001

Poem Edited: Friday, May 18, 2001


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