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Le Jardin Des Tuileries

Le Jardin Des Tuileries
This winter air is keen and cold,
And keen and cold this winter sun,
But round my chair the children run
Like little things of dancing gold.
Sometimes about the painted kiosk
The mimic soldiers strut and stride,
Sometimes the blue-eyed brigands hide
In the bleak tangles of the bosk.
And sometimes, while the old nurse cons
Her book, they steal across the square,
And launch their paper navies where
Huge Triton writhes in greenish bronze.
And now in mimic flight they flee,
And now they rush, a boisterous band -
And, tiny hand on tiny hand,
Climb up the black and leafless tree.
Ah! cruel tree! if I were you,
And children climbed me, for their sake
Though it be winter I would break
Into spring blossoms white and blue!
176

Le Reveillon

Le Reveillon
THE sky is laced with fitful red,
The circling mists and shadows flee,
The dawn is rising from the sea,
Like a white lady from her bed.
And jagged brazen arrows fall
Athwart the feathers of the night,
And a long wave of yellow light
Breaks silently on tower and hall,
And spreading wide across the wold
Wakes into flight some fluttering bird,
And all the chestnut tops are stirred,
And all the branches streaked with gold.
181

La Bella Donna Della Mia Mente

La Bella Donna Della Mia Mente
MY limbs are wasted with a flame,
My feet are sore with travelling,
For calling on my Lady's name
My lips have now forgot to sing.
O Linnet in the wild-rose brake
Strain for my Love thy melody,
O Lark sing louder for love's sake,
My gentle Lady passeth by.
She is too fair for any man
To see or hold his heart's delight,
Fairer than Queen or courtezan
Or moon-lit water in the night.
Her hair is bound with myrtle leaves,
(Green leaves upon her golden hair!)
Green grasses through the yellow sheaves
Of autumn corn are not more fair.
Her little lips, more made to kiss
Than to cry bitterly for pain,
Are tremulous as brook-water is,
Or roses after evening rain.
Her neck is like white melilote
Flushing for pleasure of the sun,
The throbbing of the linnet's throat
Is not so sweet to look upon.
As a pomegranate, cut in twain,
White-seeded, is her crimson mouth,
Her cheeks are as the fading stain
Where the peach reddens to the south.
O twining hands! O delicate
White body made for love and pain!
O House of love! O desolate
Pale flower beaten by the rain!
196

La Mer

La Mer
A white mist drifts across the shrouds,
A wild moon in this wintry sky
Gleams like an angry lion's eye
Out of a mane of tawny clouds.
The muffled steersman at the wheel
Is but a shadow in the gloom; -
And in the throbbing engine-room
Leap the long rods of polished steel.
The shattered storm has left its trace
Upon this huge and heaving dome,
For the thin threads of yellow foam
Float on the waves like ravelled lace.
221

In The Forest

In The Forest
Out of the mid-wood's twilight
Into the meadow's dawn,
Ivory limbed and brown-eyed,
Flashes my Faun!
He skips through the copses singing,
And his shadow dances along,
And I know not which I should follow,
Shadow or song!
O Hunter, snare me his shadow!
O Nightingale, catch me his strain!
Else moonstruck with music and madness
I track him in vain!
187

In the Gold Room - a Harmony

In the Gold Room - a Harmony
Her ivory hands on the ivory keys
Strayed in a fitful fantasy,
Like the silver gleam when the poplar trees
Rustle their pale-leaves listlessly,
Or the drifting foam of a restless sea
When the waves show their teeth in the flying breeze.
Her gold hair fell on the wall of gold
Like the delicate gossamer tangles spun
On the burnished disk of the marigold,
Or the sunflower turning to meet the sun
When the gloom of the dark blue night is done,
And the spear of the lily is aureoled.
And her sweet red lips on these lips of mine
Burned like the ruby fire set
In the swinging lamp of a crimson shrine,
Or the bleeding wounds of the pomegranate,
Or the heart of the lotus drenched and wet
With the spilt-out blood of the rose-red wine.
187

Impressions I. Les Silhouettes

Impressions I. Les Silhouettes
THE sea is flecked with bars of grey
The dull dead wind is out of tune,
And like a withered leaf the moon
Is blown across the stormy bay.
Etched clear upon the pallid sand
The black boat lies: a sailor boy
Clambers aboard in careless joy
With laughing face and gleaming hand.
And overhead the curlews cry,
Where through the dusky upland grass
The young brown-throated reapers pass,
Like silhouettes against the sky.
201

Impression Du Matin

Impression Du Matin
THE Thames nocturne of blue and gold
Changed to a Harmony in grey:
A barge with ochre-coloured hay
Dropt from the wharf: and chill and cold
The yellow fog came creeping down
The bridges, till the houses' walls
Seemed changed to shadows, and S. Paul's
Loomed like a bubble o'er the town.
Then suddenly arose the clang
Of waking life; the streets were stirred
With country waggons: and a bird
Flew to the glistening roofs and sang.
But one pale woman all alone,
The daylight kissing her wan hair,
Loitered beneath the gas lamps' flare,
With lips of flame and heart of stone.
234

Impression - Le Reveillon

Impression - Le Reveillon
The sky is laced with fitful red,
The circling mists and shadows flee,
The dawn is rising from the sea,
Like a white lady from her bed.
And jagged brazen arrows fall
Athwart the feathers of the night,
And a long wave of yellow light
Breaks silently on tower and hall,
And spreading wide across the wold
Wakes into flight some fluttering bird,
And all the chestnut tops are stirred,
And all the branches streaked with gold.
189

Holy Week at Genoa

Holy Week at Genoa
I wandered through Scoglietto's far retreat,
The oranges on each o'erhanging spray
Burned as bright lamps of gold to shame the day;
Some startled bird with fluttering wings and fleet
Made snow of all the blossoms; at my feet
Like silver moons the pale narcissi lay:
And the curved waves that streaked the great green bay
Laughed i' the sun, and life seemed very sweet.
Outside the young boy-priest passed singing clear,
'Jesus the son of Mary has been slain,
O come and fill His sepulchre with flowers.'
Ah, God! Ah, God! those dear Hellenic hours
Had drowned all memory of Thy bitter pain,
The Cross, the Crown, the Soldiers and the Spear.
199

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Identification and basic context

Oscar Wilde was an Irish poet, playwright, novelist, and critic. He is renowned for his sharp wit, flamboyant personality, and his advocacy of the aesthetic movement.

Childhood and education

Wilde was born into a prominent Anglo-Irish family. His father was a surgeon and his mother a poet and nationalist. He received a classical education at Trinity College, Dublin, and later at Magdalen College, Oxford, where he excelled in classical studies and developed his aesthetic theories.

Literary trajectory

Wilde's literary career began with poetry, notably his collection 'Poems' (1881). He gained significant fame as a playwright with works like 'The Importance of Being Earnest' and 'Salomé'. His novel 'The Picture of Dorian Gray' (1890) also garnered attention. He was a prominent figure in the Aesthetic and Decadent movements.

Works, style, and literary characteristics

Wilde's most famous works include 'The Picture of Dorian Gray', 'The Importance of Being Earnest', 'An Ideal Husband', and 'A Woman of No Importance'. His style is characterized by epigrammatic wit, paradox, lyrical beauty, and a focus on aestheticism. Themes explored include beauty, art, morality, hypocrisy, and the duality of human nature. He often used satire to critique Victorian society.

Cultural and historical context

Wilde lived during the late Victorian era in Britain, a period of great industrial change, social reform, and imperial expansion, but also of strict social codes and moral hypocrisy. He was a prominent voice of the Aesthetic movement, which challenged the utilitarian and moralistic views of art prevalent at the time. He was a contemporary of writers like Algernon Charles Swinburne and Walter Pater.

Personal life

Wilde's personal life was marked by his marriage to Constance Lloyd, with whom he had two sons. He also had a notorious relationship with Lord Alfred Douglas, which ultimately led to his downfall. His flamboyant lifestyle and outspoken views on art and morality set him apart from conventional society.

Recognition and reception

Wilde achieved considerable fame during his lifetime, becoming a celebrated figure in London society. However, his trial for gross indecency in 1895 led to his imprisonment and public disgrace, severely damaging his reputation. Posthumously, his work has been re-evaluated, and he is now recognized as a major literary figure of the 19th century.

Influences and legacy

Wilde was influenced by Romantic poets and French Symbolists. His emphasis on beauty and art for art's sake, his wit, and his critique of social conventions have influenced numerous writers and artists. He is considered a key figure in the development of modern drama and aesthetic theory.

Interpretation and critical analysis

Wilde's work is often analyzed through the lens of aestheticism, dandyism, and his critique of Victorian morality. His life and work continue to be debated, particularly concerning his persecution and the relationship between art and life.

Curiosities and lesser-known aspects

Wilde famously declared, "I have put my genius into my life; I have put only my talent into my works." He was known for his elaborate dress and his love of paradox. His famous green carnation became a symbol of the aesthetic movement.

Death and memory

Oscar Wilde died in exile in Paris in 1900. His tomb in Père Lachaise Cemetery is a popular tourist destination. His literary and cultural significance has endured, and he remains a celebrated figure for his wit and artistic contributions.