Poem by Oscar Wilde

Salve Saturnia Tellus

I reached the Alps: the soul within me burned
Italia, my Italia, at thy name:
And when from out the mountain's heart I came
And saw the land for which my life had yearned,
I laughed as one who some great prize had earned:
And musing on the story of thy fame
I watched the day, till marked with wounds of flame
The turquoise sky to burnished gold was turned
The pine-trees waved as waves a woman's hair,
And in the orchards every twining spray
Was breaking into flakes of blossoming foam:
But when I knew that far away at Rome
In evil bonds a second Peter lay,
I wept to see the land so very fair. 

1. Hélas!
2. The Garden of Eros
3. Urbs Sacra Æterna
4. Portia
5. Queen Henrietta Maria

Print

1869 Views

Last Poems

To Russian version