Poems by Oscar Wilde

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 honeyed 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.