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Oscar Wilde

Theoretikos

This mighty empire hath but feet of clay:
Of all its ancient chivalry and might
Our little island is forsaken quite:
Some enemy hath stolen its crown of bay,
And from its hills that voice hath passed away
Which spake of Freedom: O come out of it,
Come out of it, my Soul, thou art not fit
For this vile traffic-house, where day by day
Wisdom and reverence are sold at mart,
And the rude people rage with ignorant cries
Against an heritage of centuries.
It mars my calm: wherefore in dreams of Art
And loftiest culture I would stand apart,
Neither for God, nor for his enemies.

 
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About the poet
Oscar Wilde
 
By the same poet
The Ballad of Reading Gaol
Helas!
Sonnet to Liberty
Ave Imperatrix
To Milton
Louis Napoleon
On the Massacre of the Christians in Bulgaria
Quantum Mutata
Libertatis Sacra Fames
The Garden Of Eros
Requiescat
Sonnet On Approaching Italy
San Miniato
Ave Maria Gratia Plena
Italia
Holy Week at Genoa
Rome Unvisited
Urbs Sacra Aeterna
Sonnet on Hearing the Dies Irae Sung in the Sistine Chapel
Easter Day
E Tenebris
Vita Nuova
 
Related books
Oscar Wilde at amazon.com


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