Verse > Oscar Wilde > Poems

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

43. A Vision

TWO crownèd Kings, and One that stood alone 
  With no green weight of laurels round his head, 
  But with sad eyes as one uncomforted, 
And wearied with man’s never-ceasing moan 
For sins no bleating victim can atone,         5
  And sweet long lips with tears and kisses fed. 
  Girt was he in a garment black and red, 
And at his feet I marked a broken stone 
  Which sent up lilies, dove-like, to his knees. 
  Now at their sight, my heart being lit with flame  10
I cried to Beatricé, “Who are these?” 
And she made answer, knowing well each name, 
  “Æschylos first, the second Sophokles, 
  And last (wide stream of tears!) Euripides.” 



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