Oscar Wilde

(1854-1900 / Dublin / Ireland)

Oscar Wilde Poems

1. The House Of Judgement 4/1/2010
2. We Are Made One with What We Touch and See 4/20/2015
3. The Artist 2/9/2015
4. Nay, Lord, not thus! white lilies in the spring 5/6/2015
5. Louis Napoleon 5/18/2001
6. Queen Henrietta Maria 5/18/2001
7. Quia Multum Amavi 5/18/2001
8. Theocritus 5/18/2001
9. The Burden Of Itys 5/18/2001
10. Libertatis Sacra Fames 5/18/2001
11. The Disciple 4/1/2010
12. Le Reveillon 5/18/2001
13. Santa Decca 5/18/2001
14. Salve Saturnia Tellus 1/3/2003
15. On The Massacre Of The Christians In Bulgaria 1/3/2003
16. Tadium Vita 5/18/2001
17. Quantum Mutata 5/18/2001
18. Impressions I. Les Silhouettes 5/18/2001
19. To Milton 5/18/2001
20. Impressions Ii. La Fuite De La Lune 5/18/2001
21. The Master 4/1/2010
22. Impression Du Voyage 5/18/2001
23. Les Ballons 1/3/2003
24. The Dole Of The King's Daughter (Breton) 1/3/2003
25. The Teacher Of Wisdom 4/1/2010
26. Theoretikos 5/18/2001
27. On The Sale By Auction Of Keats' Love Letters 1/3/2003
28. Sonnet Written In Holy Week At Genoa 12/31/2002
29. The New Helen 5/18/2001
30. On Easter Day 1/3/2003
31. The Doer Of Good 4/1/2010
32. Taedium Vitae 1/3/2003
33. Phedre 1/3/2003
34. Le Panneau 1/3/2003
35. Portia 5/18/2001
36. A Villanelle 4/1/2010
37. La Mer 1/3/2003
38. Pan 1/3/2003
39. Urbs Sacra Æterna 5/18/2001
40. Sonnet On Approaching Italy 5/18/2001
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

Le Panneau

Under the rose-tree's dancing shade
There stands a little ivory girl,
Pulling the leaves of pink and pearl
With pale green nails of polished jade.

The red leaves fall upon the mould,
The white leaves flutter, one by one,
Down to a blue bowl where the sun,
Like a great dragon, writhes in gold.

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