by Oscar Wilde (1854 - 1900)

The lily's withered chalice falls
Language: English 
The lily's withered chalice falls 
Around its rod of dusty gold, 
And from the beech-trees on the wold 
The last wood-pigeon coos and calls. 

The gaudy leonine sunflower 
Hangs black and barren on its stalk, 
And down the windy garden walk 
The dead leaves scatter, -- hour by hour. 

Pale privet-petals white as milk 
Are blown into a snowy mass: 
The roses lie upon the grass 
Like little shreds of crimson silk.

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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 12
Word count: 71