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The Collected Poems of Oscar Wilde QUOTES

The Collected Poems of Oscar Wilde QUOTES

1 " Come down, O Christ, and help me! reach thy hand
For I am drowning in a stormier sea
Than Simon on thy lake of Galilee:
The wine of life is spilt upon the sand,
My heart is as some famine-murdered land
Whence all good things have perished utterly,
And well I know my soul in Hell must lie
If this night before God's throne should stand. "

― Oscar Wilde , The Collected Poems of Oscar Wilde

2 " O we are wearied of this sense of guilt,
Wearied of pleasure's paramour despair,
Wearied of every temple we have built,
Wearied of every unanswered right, unanswered prayer,
For man is weak; God sleeps: and heaven is high:
One fiery-colored moment: one great love: and lo! we die. "

― Oscar Wilde , The Collected Poems of Oscar Wilde

3 " We shall be notes in that great Symphony
Whose cadence circles through the rhythmic spheres,
And all the live World's throbbing heart shall be
One with our heart, the stealthy creeping years
Have lost their terror now, we shall not die,
The Universe itself shall be our Immortality! "

― Oscar Wilde , The Collected Poems of Oscar Wilde

4 " Nay, let us walk from fire unto fire,
From passionate pain to deadlier delight,
I am too young to live without desire,
Too young art thou to waste this summer night
Asking those idle questions which of old
Man sought of seer and oracle, and no reply was told.

For, sweet, to feel is better than to know,
And wisdom is a childless heritage,
One pulse of passion--youth's first fiery glow, --
Are worth the hoarded proverbs of the sage:
Vex not soul with dead philosophy,
Have we not lips to kiss with, hearts to love and eyes to see! "

― Oscar Wilde , The Collected Poems of Oscar Wilde

5 " Mourning the old glad days before they knew
What evil things the heart of man could dream, and dreaming do. "

― Oscar Wilde , The Collected Poems of Oscar Wilde

6 " She is at rest.

Peace, peace, she cannot hear,
Lyre or sonnet,
All my life's buried here,
Heap earth upon it. "

― Oscar Wilde , The Collected Poems of Oscar Wilde

7 " Rid of the world’s injustice, and his pain, He rests at last beneath God’s veil of blue: Taken from life when life and love were new The youngest of the martyrs here is lain, Fair as Sebastian, and as early slain. No cypress shades his grave, no funeral yew, But gentle violets weeping with the dew Weave on his bones an ever-blossoming chain. O proudest heart that broke for misery! O sweetest lips since those of Mitylene! O poet-painter of our English land! Thy name was writ in water — it shall stand: And tears like mine will keep thy memory green, As Isabella did her Basil tree. Rome "

― Oscar Wilde , The Collected Poems of Oscar Wilde