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Oscar Wilde's Poetry, by title

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  • Beautiful star with the crimson lips
    And flagrant daffodil hair,
    16 lines, 1 comment
  • O well for him who lives at ease
    With garnered gold in wide domain,
    12 lines
  • O singer of Persephone!
    In the dim meadows desolate
    23 lines
  • TWO crownèd Kings, and One that stood alone
    14 lines
  • OFT have we trod the vales of Castaly
    14 lines, 2 comments
  • Go little book,
    To him who, on a lute with horns of pearl,
    7 lines
  • IS it thy will that I should wax and wane,
    &nb
    37 lines, 1 comment
  • AT VERONA.
    HOW steep the stairs within Kings' houses
    15 lines
  • To that gaunt House of Art which lacks for naught
    Of all the great things men have saved from Time,
    60 lines, 2 comments
  • SET in this stormy Northern sea,
    &nb
    124 lines, 1 comment
  • Was this His coming! I had hoped to see
    A scene of wondrous glory, as was told
    14 lines, 1 comment
  • Or else he sat with those who watched
    His anguish night and day;
    660 lines, 2 comments
  • Version II
    He did not wear his scarlet coat,
    660 lines, 3 comments
  • I am weary of lying within the chase
    When the knights are meeting in market-place.
    46 lines, 1 comment
  • THE oleander on the wall
    &nbs
    0 lines
  • AS one who poring on a Grecian urn
    &nb
    14 lines, 1 comment
  • I have no store
    Of gryphon-guarded gold;
    32 lines
  • A RING of gold and a milk-white dove
    &
    16 lines, 1 comment
  • HE was a Grecian lad, who coming home
    With pulpy figs and wine from Sicily
    676 lines
  • The seasons send their ruin as they go,
    For in the spring the narciss shows its head
    14 lines, 1 comment
  • O goat-foot God of Arcady!
    This modern world is grey and old,
    53 lines
  • COME down, O Christ, and help me! reach thy hand,
                For I am drowning in a stormier sea
    14 lines, 4 comments
  • The silver trumpets rang across the Dome:
        The people knelt upon the ground with awe:
    14 lines
  • (FOR MUSIC.)
    THE apple trees are hung w
    43 lines, 1 comment
  • The silent room, the heavy creeping shade,
    The dead that travel fast, the opening door,
    15 lines
  • Sweet, I blame you not, for mine the fault was, had I not been made of common
    clay
    39 lines
  • In the glad springtime when leaves were green,
    O merrily the throstle sings!
    22 lines
  • The sea was sapphire coloured, and the sky
    Burned like a heated opal through the air;
    14 lines, 1 comment
  • To drift with every passion till my soul
    Is a stringed lute on which all winds can play,
    14 lines, 1 comment
  • THE wild bee reels from bough to bough
    42 lines, 2 comments
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