Page:Writings of Oscar Wilde - Volume 01.djvu/94

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THE WRITINGS OF OSCAR WILDE

REQUIESCAT.

Tread lightly, she is near  Under the snow, Speak gently, she can hear  The daisies grow.
All her bright golden hair  Tarnished with rust, She that was young and fair  Fallen to dust.
Lily-like, white as snow,  She hardly knew She was a woman, so  Sweetly she grew.
Coffin-board, heavy stone,  Lie on her breast, I vex my heart alone  She is at rest.
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