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Athenasia

Athenasia
To that gaunt House of Art which lacks for naught
Of all the great things men have saved from Time,
The withered body of a girl was brought
Dead ere the world's glad youth had touched its prime,
And seen by lonely Arabs lying hid
In the dim wound of some black pyramid.
But when they had unloosed the linen band
Which swathed the Egyptian's body,- lo! was found
Closed in the wasted hollow of her hand
A little seed, which sown in English ground
Did wondrous snow of starry blossoms bear,
And spread rich odors through our springtide air.
With such strange arts this flower did allure
That all forgotten was the asphodel,
And the brown bee, the lily's paramour,
Forsook the cup where he was wont to dwell,
For not a thing of earth it seemed to be,
But stolen from some heavenly Arcady.
In vain the sad narcissus, wan and white
At its own beauty, hung across the stream,
The purple dragon-fly had no delight
With its gold-dust to make his wings a-gleam,
Ah! no delight the jasmine-bloom to kiss,
Or brush the rain-pearls from the eucharis.
For love of it the passionate nightingale
Forgot the hills of Thrace, the cruel king,
And the pale dove no longer cared to sail
Through the wet woods at time of blossoming,
But round this flower of Egypt sought to float,
With silvered wing and amethystine throat.
While the hot sun blazed in his tower of blue
A cooling wind crept from the land of snows,
And the warm south with tender tears of dew
Drenched its white leaves when Hesperos uprose
Amid those sea-green meadows of the sky
On which the scarlet bars of sunset lie.
But when o'er wastes of lily-haunted field
The tired birds had stayed their amorous tune,
And broad and glittering like an argent shield
High in the sapphire heavens hung the moon,
Did no strange dream or evil memory make
Each tremulous petal of its blossoms shake?
Ah no! to this bright flower a thousand years
Seemed but the lingering of a summer's day,
It never knew the tide of cankering fears


Which turn a boy's gold hair to withered gray,
The dread desire of death it never knew,
Or how all folk that they were born must rue.
For we to death with pipe and dancing go,
Nor would we pass the ivory gate again,
As some sad river wearied of its flow
Through the dull plains, the haunts of common men,
Leaps lover-like into the terrible sea!
And counts it gain to die so gloriously.
We mar our lordly strength in barren strife
With the world's legions led by clamorous care,
It never feels decay but gathers life
From the pure sunlight and the supreme air,
We live beneath Time's wasting sovereignty,
It is the child of all eternity.
251

At Verona

At Verona
HOW steep the stairs within Kings' houses are
For exile-wearied feet as mine to tread,
And O how salt and bitter is the bread
Which falls from this Hound's table,--better far
That I had died in the red ways of war,
Or that the gate of Florence bare my head,
Than to live thus, by all things comraded
Which seek the essence of my soul to mar.
'Curse God and die: what better hope than this?
He hath forgotten thee in all the bliss
Of his gold city, and eternal day'--
Nay peace: behind my prison's blinded bars
I do possess what none can take away,
My love, and all the glory of the stars.
240

A Vision

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.'
214

Amor Intellectualis

Amor Intellectualis
OFT have we trod the vales of Castaly
And heard sweet notes of sylvan music blown
From antique reeds to common folk unknown:
And often launched our bark upon that sea
Which the nine Muses hold in empery,
And ploughed free furrows through the wave and foam,
Nor spread reluctant sail for more safe home
Till we had freighted well our argosy.
Of which despoilèd treasures these remain,
Sordello's passion, and the honied line
Of young Endymion, lordly Tamburlaine
Driving his pampered jades, and more than these,
The seven-fold vision of the Florentine,
And grave-browed Milton's solemn harmonies.
253

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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.