![]() More than the languors of soft lute-playing. Of silver flutes and mouths made round to sing.Īlong the wall red roses climb and cling,Īnd oh! my prince, lift up thy countenance,įor there be thoughts like roses that entrance What shall we do, my soul, to please the King? Men creep like thoughts.The lamps are like pale flowers. Now, our friend Lord Alfred wasn’t the son of just any old noble house in fact, Lord Alfred came from one of the noblest and oldest families in Scotland. I think they move! I hear her panting breath.Īnd that's her head where the tiara rests.Īnd in her brain, through lanes as dark as death, On October 22, 1870, Lord Alfred Bruce Douglas was born, the third child of John Douglas, 9th Marquess of Queensberry and his first wife Sibyl. Pricked out with lamps they stand like huge black towers. That's the great town at night: I see her breasts, With thousands of bold eyes to heaven, and dares See! that huge circle like a necklace, stares Much of his early poetry was Uranian in theme, though he tended, later in life, to distance himself from both Wilde's influence and his own role as a Uranian poet. Once, and once only, might have stood with these. Lord Alfred Bruce Douglas (22 October 1870 20 March 1945) was a poet, a translator and a prose writer, better known as the intimate friend and lover of the writer Oscar Wilde. When you met mercy's voice with frowns or jeers.Īnd did you ask who signed the plea with you?įools! It was signed already with the sign That you yourselves, not he, were pitiable ![]() LORD ALFRED DOUGLAS FULLYou that were full of fears,Īnd mean self-love, shall live to know full well Of song and art is powerless as the tears Opened for Tracian Orpheus, now the spell Zola, Copee, Sardou and others) who refused to compromise their spotless reputations or imperil their literary exclusiveness by signing a merciful petition in favour of Oscar Wilde.Ĭan open English prisons. "Not all the singers of a thousand years" Sonnet, dedicated to those French men of letters (Messrs. As the Irish Times notes, he's widely considered 'incapable of redemption,' a self-obsessed man who fought with just about everyone in his life, alienating his own family. (Compare Keats's sonnet When I Have Fears.) Lord Alfred Douglas was an extremely good-looking man when he was young, but his physical beauty hid a pretty terrible person. Till mean things put on beauty like a dressĪnd all the world was an enchanted place.Īnd then methought outside a fast locked gateĪnd voiceless thoughts like murdered singing birds. I heard his golden voice and marked him trace I dreamed of him last night, I saw his face
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