Free books to read online
Home Page

Enjoy Free

 Site Map > Electronic Library > Oscar Wilde > Poems > Poem: The New Remorse

Listen to audiobooks at Litphonix
Listen to audiobooks at Litphonix


by Oscar Wilde

previous: Poem: On The Sale By Auction Of Keats' Love Letters

Poem: The New Remorse

The sin was mine; I did not understand.
So now is music prisoned in her cave,
Save where some ebbing desultory wave
Frets with its restless whirls this meagre strand.
And in the withered hollow of this land
Hath Summer dug herself so deep a grave,
That hardly can the leaden willow crave
One silver blossom from keen Winter's hand.

But who is this who cometh by the shore?
(Nay, love, look up and wonder!) Who is this
Who cometh in dyed garments from the South?
It is thy new-found Lord, and he shall kiss
The yet unravished roses of thy mouth,
And I shall weep and worship, as before.

Turn to the next chapter: Poem: Le Panneau

Privacy Policy