The Torch
"To drift with every passion til my soul
Is a stringed lute on which all winds can play,
Is it for this that I have given away
Mine ancient wisdom, and austere control?
Methinks my life is a twice-written scroll
Scrawled over on some boyish holiday
With idle songs for pipe and virelay,
Which do but mar the secret of the whole.
Surely there was a time I might have trod
The sunlit heights, and from life's dissonance
Struck one clear chord to reach the ears of God:
Is that time dead? lo! with a little rod
I did but touch the honey of romance -
And must I lose a soul's inheritance?"
-Oscar Wilde 1854-1900 (from Poems 1881)
Oscar Wilde has got to be my newest infatuation.
What a sexual deviant he was!
A flaming homosexual, who favored minors.
What a tragic end, to have died from
Cerebral meningitis and Syphilis.
Gazing at the wallpaper of the room he lay dying in,
He sighed: "Well, one of us had to go."