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Oscar Wilde (Оскар Уайльд)


My Voice


WITHIN this restless, hurried, modern world
We took our hearts' full pleasure--You and I,
And now the white sails of our ship are furled,
And spent the lading of our argosy.

Wherefore my cheeks before their time are wan,
For very weeping is my gladness fled,
Sorrow hath paled my lip's vermilion,
And Ruin draws the curtains of my bed.

But all this crowded life has been to thee
No more than lyre, or lute, or subtle spell
Of viols, or the music of the sea
That sleeps, a mimic echo, in the shell. 



Oscar Wilde's other poems:
  1. Salve Saturnia Tellus
  2. Sonnet Written in Holy Week at Genoa
  3. Desespoir
  4. Fabien Dei Franchi
  5. Athenasia


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Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1604


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