Impression Du Matin
HE Thames nocturne of blue and gold Changed to a Harmony in grey: A barge with ochre-coloured hay Dropt from the wharf: and chill and cold The yellow fog came creeping down The bridges, till the houses' walls Seemed changed to shadows, and St.
Paul's Loomed like a bubble o'er the town. Then suddenly arose the clang Of waking life; the streets were stirred With country waggons: and a bird Flew to the glistening roofs and sang. But one pale woman all alone, The daylight kissing her wan hair, Loitered beneath the gas lamps' flare, With lips of flame and heart of stone.
Oscar Wilde
Other author posts
The Dole Of The Kings Daughter Breton
Seven stars in the still water, And seven in the sky; Seven sins on the King's daughter, Deep in her soul to lie
Le Panneau
Under the rose-tree's dancing There stands a little ivory girl, Pulling the leaves of pink and With pale green nails of polished jade
The Garden Of Eros
IT is full summer now, the heart of June, Not yet the sun-burnt reapers are a-stir Upon the upland meadow where too soon Rich autumn time, the season's usurer, Will lend his hoarded gold to all the trees, And see his treasure scattered by the wild...
Flower of Love
Sweet, I blame you not, for mine the fault was, had I not been made of common clayI had climbed the higher heights unclimbed yet, seen the fuller air, the larger day From the wildness of my wasted passion I had struck a better, clearer s...