- Tread lightly, she is near
- Under the snow,
- Speak gently, she can hear
- The daisies grow.
-
- All her bright golden hair
- Tarnished with rust,
- She that was young and fair
- Fallen to dust.
-
- Lily-like, white as snow,
- She hardly knew
- She was a woman, so
- Sweetly she grew.
-
- Coffin-board, heavy stone,
- Lie on her breast,
- I vex my heart alone,
- She is at rest.
-
- Peace, peace, she cannot hear
- Lyre or sonnet,
- All my life's buried here,
- Heap earth upon it.
-
-
- Back to Oscar
Wilde
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