I.
O goat-foot God of Arcady!
This modern world is grey and
old,
And what remains to us of thee?
No more the shepherd lads in glee
Throw apples at thy wattled
fold,
O goat-foot God of Arcady!
Nor through the laurels can one see
Thy soft brown limbs, thy
beard of gold,
And what remains to us of thee?
And dull and dead our Thames would be,
For here the winds are
chill and cold,
O goat-foot God of Arcady!
Then keep the tomb of Helice,
Thine olive-woods, thy
vine-clad wold,
And what remains to us of thee?
Though many an unsung elegy
Sleeps in the reeds our rivers
hold,
O goat-foot God of Arcady!
Ah, what remains to us of thee?
II.
Ah, leave the hills of Arcady,
Thy satyrs and their wanton
play,
This modern world hath need of thee.
No nymph or Faun indeed have we,
For Faun and nymph are old
and grey,
Ah, leave the hills of Arcady!
This is the land where liberty
Lit grave-browed Milton on his
way,
This modern world hath need of thee!
A land of ancient chivalry
Where gentle Sidney saw the
day,
Ah, leave the hills of Arcady!
This fierce sea-lion of the sea,
This England lacks some
stronger lay,
This modern world hath need of thee!
Then blow some trumpet loud and free,
And give thine oaten
pipe away,
Ah, leave the hills of Arcady!
This modern world hath need of
thee!
~Oscar Wilde
~Oscar Wilde
3 comments:
I certainly have need of him!
What a perfect poem for the occasion!
Very nice and I just love the statue!
Post a Comment