Page:Writings of Oscar Wilde - Volume 01.djvu/84

This page needs to be proofread.
70
THE WRITINGS OF OSCAR WILDE.
Who for thy sake would give their manlihood  And consecrate their being, I at least Have done so, made thy lips my daily food,  And in thy temples found a goodlier feast Then this starved age can give me, spite of all Its new-found creeds so skeptical and so dogmatical.
Here not Cephissos, not Ilissos flows,  The woods of white Colonos are not here, On our bleak hills the olive never blows,  No simple priest conducts his lowing steer Up the steep marble way, nor through the town Do laughing maidens bear to thee the crocus-flowered gown.
Yet tarry! for the boy who loved thee best,  Whose very name should be a memory To make thee linger, sleeps in silent rest  Beneath the Roman walls, and melody Still mourns her sweetest lyre, none can play The lute of Adonais, with his lips Song passed away.
This article is issued from Wikisource. The text is available under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 unless otherwise noted. Additional terms may apply for the media files.