Category Oscar Wilde

The sea is flecked with bars of grey,The dull dead wind is out of tune,And like a withered leaf the moonIs blown across the stormy bay. Etched clear upon the pallid sandLies the black boat: a sailor boyClambers aboard in…

The sky is laced with fitful red,The circling mists and shadows flee,The dawn is rising from the sea,Like a white lady from her bed. And jagged brazen arrows fallAthwart the feathers of the night,And a long wave of yellow lightBreaks…

I —There is no peace beneath the moon,—Ah! in those meadows is there peaceWhere, girdled with a silver fleece,As a bright shepherd, strays the moon? —Queen of the gardens of the sky,Where stars like lilies, white and fair,Shine through the…

I.O goat-foot God of Arcady!This modern world is grey and old,And what remains to us of thee? No more the shepherd lads in gleeThrow apples at thy wattled fold,O goat-foot God of Arcady! Nor through the laurels can one seeThy…

It was night-time and He was alone. And He saw afar-off the walls of a round city and went towards thecity. And when He came near He heard within the city the tread of thefeet of joy, and the laughter…

Her ivory hands on the ivory keysStrayed in a fitful fantasy,Like the silver gleam when the poplar treesRustle their pale-leaves listlessly,Or the drifting foam of a restless seaWhen the waves show their teeth in the flying breeze. Her gold hair…

The sea was sapphire coloured, and the skyBurned like a heated opal through the air;We hoisted sail; the wind was blowing fairFor the blue lands that to the eastward lie.From the steep prow I marked with quickening eyeZakynthos, every olive…

One evening there came into his soul the desire to fashion an image of The Pleasure that abideth for a Moment. And he went forth into the world to look for bronze. For he could only think in bronze. But…

To outer senses there is peace,A dreamy peace on either hand,Deep silence in the shadowy land,Deep silence where the shadows cease. Save for a cry that echoes shrillFrom some lone bird disconsolate;A corncrake calling to its mate;The answer from the…

As oftentimes the too resplendent sunHurries the pallid and reluctant moonBack to her sombre cave, ere she hath wonA single ballad from the nightingale,So doth thy Beauty make my lips to fail,And all my sweetest singing out of tune. And…