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, (1854-1900)
Poem from The Fourth Movement, 1881

from Project Gutenberg (public domain)


Other works from The Fourth Movement:

Impression De Voyage
At Verona
Apologia
Quia Multum Amavi
Silentium Amoris
Her Voice
Taedium Vitae

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