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May 9, 2018 · Fallen to dust …. Its title taken from the Latin for ‘ (may he or she) rest in peace’, this short poem is one of Wilde’s most understated and touching, about a dead loved one who is now buried underground. The poem was inspired by the death of someone Wilde was very close to: his own sister.
In this article, we will explore a collection of unique and beautiful Oscar Wilde poems about death, showcasing his literary genius and profound insights into the human condition.
- The Grave of Keats. ‘The Grave of Keats’ by Oscar Wilde describes the physical state of Keats’ grave and the emotional impact that his short life had on England.
- Sonnet to Liberty. In Wilde’s contemplative verse, the speaker addresses Liberty directly, revealing a complex relationship with the concept—both critical and intimately connected, a force that has historically driven humanity to rise against tyranny.
- Her Voice. ‘Her Voice’ by Oscar Wilde is told by a speaker who is having to accept the end of a relationship she once vowed to uphold for eternity. 'Her Voice' by Oscar Wilde is a poignant reflection on the end of a relationship and the enduring nature of personal essence.
- The Ballad of Reading Gaol. ‘The Ballad of Reading Gaol’ is a scathing critique of the penal system and an exploration of complex human emotions. 'The Ballad of Reading Gaol' by Oscar Wilde is a poignant critique of the penal system, drawn from his own incarceration and a fellow prisoner's execution.
For blood and wine are red, And blood and wine were on his hands. When they found him with the dead, The poor dead woman whom he loved, And murdered in her bed. He walked amongst the Trial Men. In a suit of shabby grey; A cricket cap was on his head, And his step seemed light and gay;
- He did not wear his scarlet coat, For blood and wine are red, And blood and wine were on his hands. When they found him with the dead, The poor dead woman whom he loved,
- Six weeks the guardsman walked the yard, In the suit of shabby gray: His cricket cap was on his head, And his step seemed light and gay, But I never saw a man who looked.
- In Debtors' Yard the stones are hard, And the dripping wall is high, So it was there he took the air. Beneath the leaden sky, And by each side a Warder walked,
- There is no chapel on the day. On which they hang a man: The Chaplain's heart is far too sick, Or his face is far too wan, Or there is that written in his eyes.
‘The Grave of Keats‘ by Oscar Wilde describes the physical state of the dead poet’s grave and the emotional impact that his short life had on England.
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All my life’s buried here, Heap earth upon it. This poem is in the public domain. Requiescat - Tread lightly, she is near.
