The Burden Of Itys

By Oscar Wilde

Format: .epub



This English Thames is holier far than Rome,

    Those harebells like a sudden flush of sea

Breaking across the woodland, with the foam

    Of meadow-sweet and white anemone

To fleck their blue waves,–God is likelier there,

Than hidden in that crystal-hearted star the pale monks bear!

Those violet-gleaming butterflies that take

    Yon creamy lily for their pavilion

Are monsignores, and where the rushes shake

    A lazy pike lies basking in the sun

His eyes half-shut,–He is some mitred old

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