Lady Jane Wilde
Lady Jane Wilde Poems
|81.||Dedication To Ireland||8/2/2012|
|83.||France In '93||8/2/2012|
|84.||The Old Man's Blessing||8/2/2012|
|85.||The Dying Christian||8/2/2012|
|86.||Sympathies With The Universal||8/2/2012|
|88.||A Lament For The Potato||8/2/2012|
|89.||La Via Dolorosa||8/2/2012|
|90.||Why Weepest Thou?||8/2/2012|
|92.||The Famine Year||8/2/2012|
|93.||Tristan And Isolde. The Love Sin.||8/2/2012|
Tristan And Isolde. The Love Sin.
None, unless the saints above,
Knew the secret of their love;
For with calm and stately grace
Isolde held her queenly place,
Tho’ the courtiers’ hundred eyes
Sought the lovers to surprise,
Or to read the mysteries
Of a love—so rumour said
By a magic philtre fed,
Which for ever in their veins
Burn’d with love’s consuming pains.
Yet their hands would twine unseen,
In a clasp ’twere hard to sever;
And whoso watched their glances meet,
Gazing as they’d gaze for ever,
Might have marked the sudden heat
Crims’ning on each flushing cheek,
As the ...
Tis midnight, falls the lamp‐light dull and sickly,
On a pale and anxious crowd,
Through the court, and round the judges, thronging thickly,
With prayers none dare to speak aloud.
Two youths, two noble youths, stand prisoners at the bar
You can see them through the gloom
In pride of life and manhood’s beauty, there they are
Awaiting their death doom.