Page:Writings of Oscar Wilde - Volume 01.djvu/60

46
 * Adieu! Adieu! yon silent evening star,

The night's ambassador, doth gleam afar, And bid the shepherd bring his flocks to fold. Perchance before our inland seas of gold Are garnered by the reapers into sheaves, Perchance before I see the Autumn leaves, I may behold thy city; and lay down Low at thy feet the poet's laurel crown.


 * Adieu! Adieu! yon silver lamp, the moon,

Which turns our midnight into perfect noon, Doth surely light thy towers, guarding well Where Dante sleeps, where Byron loved to dwell.