Oscar Wilde

(1854-1900 / Dublin / Ireland)

Tristitiae - Poem by Oscar Wilde

O well for him who lives at ease
With garnered gold in wide domain,
Nor heeds the splashing of the rain,
The crashing down of forest trees.

O well for him who ne'er hath known
The travail of the hungry years,
A father grey with grief and tears,
A mother weeping all alone.

But well for him whose foot hath trod
The weary road of toil and strife,
Yet from the sorrows of his life.
Builds ladders to be nearer God.

Comments about Tristitiae by Oscar Wilde

  • (10/1/2017 5:19:00 PM)

    You have left out the last, and most meaningful, verse:

    And there is nothing left to do
    But to kiss once again, and part,
    Nay, there is nothing we should rue,
    I have my beauty, -you your Art,
    Nay, do not start,
    One world was not enough for two
    Like me and you.
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  • Gleb Zavlanov (7/18/2013 7:21:00 PM)

    Such a beautiful poem (Report) Reply

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Read poems about / on: grief, father, rain, mother, alone, god, life, sorrow, tree

Poem Submitted: Friday, January 3, 2003

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