Italia
.
IA! thou art fallen, though with sheen Of battle-spears thy clamorous armies stride From the north Alps to the Sicilian tide! Ay! fallen, though the nations hail thee Queen Because rich gold in every town is seen, And on thy sapphire lake in tossing pride Of wind-filled vans thy myriad galleys ride Beneath one flag of red and white and green. O Fair and Strong!
O Strong and Fair in vain! Look southward where Rome's desecrated town Lies mourning for her God-anointed King! Look heaven-ward! shall God allow this thing? Nay! but some flame-girt Raphael shall come down, And smite the Spoiler with the sword of pain.
Oscar Wilde
Другие работы автора
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<br /...
Roses and Rue
Could we dig up this long-buried treasure, Were it worth the pleasure, We never could learn love's song, We are parted too
Impression - Le Reveillon
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
Chanson
A NG of gold and a milk-white dove Are goodly gifts for thee, And a hempen rope for your own love To hang upon a tree For you a House of Ivory (Roses are white in the rose-bower) A narrow bed for me to lie (White,...