Class · 12:58am Apr 26th, 2015
I can write no stately proem
As prelude to my lay:
A poet to a poem
I would dare to say.
Yet if, of these fallen petals,
One to you seems fair,
Love will waft it 'til it settles
On your hair.
And when time and winter harden
All this loveless land,
It will whisper of the garden:
You will understand.
--"To his wife, with a copy of his poems"
Oscar Wilde
(Quoted from memory)
Hmm...what mood does this find you in, Ed?