These are the letters which Endymion wrote
To one he loved in secret and apart,
And now the brawlers of the auction-mart
Bargain and bid for each poor blotted note,
Aye! for each separate pulse of passion quote
The merchant's price! I think they love not art
Who break the crystal of a poet's heart,
That small and sickly eyes may glare or gloat.
Is it not said, that many years ago,
In a far Eastern town some soldiers ran
With torches through the midnight, and began
To wrangle for mean raiment, and to throw
Dice for the garments of a wretched man,
Not knowing the God's wonder, or his woe?
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Funny then, that it is possible to purchase a book entitled 'Oscar Wilde's Letters'. Is it not made perfectly clear in this poem that that is precisely what Wilde would have despised. Should I ever become famous (highly unlikely), I shall burn all my letters and diaries.
Poor Oscar... -
lol. same thing is to be said about E-Bay peddling away sports mementoes and other such shelf-sitters
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