Verse > Oscar Wilde > Poems
  PREVIOUS NEXT  
CONTENTS      BIBLIOGRAPHIC RECORD

Oscar Wilde (1854–1900).  Poems.  1881.

20. Easter Day


THE silver trumpets rang across the Dome: 
  The people knelt upon the ground with awe: 
  And borne upon the necks of men I saw, 
Like some great God, the Holy Lord of Rome. 
Priest-like, he wore a robe more white than foam,         5
  And, king-like, swathed himself in royal red, 
  Three crowns of gold rose high upon his head: 
In splendour and in light the Pope passed home. 
My heart stole back across wide wastes of years 
  To One who wandered by a lonely sea,  10
  And sought in vain for any place of rest: 
“Foxes have holes, and every bird its nest, 
  I, only I, must wander wearily, 
  And bruise my feet, and drink wine salt with tears.” 


CONTENTS      BIBLIOGRAPHIC RECORD


  PREVIOUS NEXT  
 
Loading
Click here to shop the Bartleby Bookstore.

Shakespeare · Bible · Strunk · Anatomy · Nonfiction · Quotations · Reference · Fiction · Poetry
© 1993–2014 Bartleby.com · [Top 150] · Subjects · Titles · Authors