Page:The Poems of Oscar Wilde.pdf/231

 Its cadenced Greek delights me not, I feel

With such a goodly time too out of tune

To love it much: for like the Dial's wheel

That from its blinded darkness strikes the noon

Yet never sees the sun, so do my eyes

Restlessly follow that which from my cheated vision flies.

O for one grand unselfish simple life

To teach us what is Wisdom! speak ye hills

Of lone Helvellyn, for this note of strife

Shunned your untroubled crags and crystal rills,

Where is that Spirit which living blamelessly

Yet dared to kiss the smitten mouth of his own century!

Speak ye Rydalian laurels! where is He

Whose gentle head ye sheltered, that pure soul

Whose gracious days of uncrowned majesty

Through lowliest conduct touched the lofty goal

Where Love and Duty mingle! Him at least

The most high Laws were glad of, He had sat at Wisdom's feast, 217