Back to Index

Vita Nuova

by Oscar Wilde, 1881

I STOOD by the unvintageable sea
   Till the wet waves drenched face and hair with spray,
   The long red fires of the dying day
 Burned in the west; the wind piped drearily;
 And to the land the clamorous gulls did flee:
   “Alas!” I cried, “my life is full of pain,
   And who can garner fruit or golden grain,
 From these waste fields which travail ceaselessly!”
   My nets gaped wide with many a break and flaw
   Nathless I threw them as my final cast
   Into the sea, and waited for the end.
 When lo! a sudden glory! and I saw
   The argent splendour of white limbs ascend,
   And in that joy forgot my tortured past.

Published in Poems
Tags:

Any corrections or public domain poems I should have here? Email me at poems (at) this domain.