Oscar Wilde

(1854-1900 / Dublin / Ireland)

Oscar Wilde Poems

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

San Miniato

SEE, I have climbed the mountain side
Up to this holy house of God,
Where once that Angel-Painter trod
Who saw the heavens opened wide,

And throned upon the crescent moon
The Virginal white Queen of Grace,--
Mary! could I but see thy face
Death could not come at all too soon.

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