Poem Hunter
My Voice
(1854-1900 / Dublin / Ireland)

My Voice

Poem By Oscar Wilde

WITHIN this restless, hurried, modern world
We took our hearts' full pleasure--You and I,
And now the white sails of our ship are furled,
And spent the lading of our argosy.

Wherefore my cheeks before their time are wan,
For very weeping is my gladness fled,
Sorrow hath paled my lip's vermilion,
And Ruin draws the curtains of my bed.

But all this crowded life has been to thee
No more than lyre, or lute, or subtle spell
Of viols, or the music of the sea
That sleeps, a mimic echo, in the shell.

User Rating: 3,1 / 5 ( 38 votes ) 8

Comments (8)

Wish I had the opportunity to study, poetry of his era. Sounds splendid and deserving to be the poem of the day. Thanks for sharing.
Interesting...hard for me to understand though.
But all this crowded life has been to thee...nice piece.thanks
.....beautifully composed, thank you Mr. Wilde ★
splendid one my dear imaginary friend