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Home  »  Poems by Oscar Wilde  »  43. A Vision

Oscar Wilde (1854–1900). Poems. 1881.

43. A Vision

TWO crownèd Kings, and One that stood alone

With no green weight of laurels round his head,

But with sad eyes as one uncomforted,

And wearied with man’s never-ceasing moan

For sins no bleating victim can atone,

And sweet long lips with tears and kisses fed.

Girt was he in a garment black and red,

And at his feet I marked a broken stone

Which sent up lilies, dove-like, to his knees.

Now at their sight, my heart being lit with flame

I cried to Beatricé, “Who are these?”

And she made answer, knowing well each name,

“Æschylos first, the second Sophokles,

And last (wide stream of tears!) Euripides.”