On the Sale By Auction of Keats' Love Letters

May 07, 2024 10:29


These are the letters which Endymion wrote
   To one he loved in secret, and apart.
   And now the brawlers of the auction mart
Bargain and bid for each poor blotted note,
Ay! for each separate pulse of passion quote
   The merchant’s price. I think they love not art
   Who break the crystal of a poet’s heart
That small and sickly eyes may glare and gloat.

Is it not said that many years ago,
   In a far Eastern town, some soldiers ran
   With torches through the midnight, and began
To wrangel for mean raiment, and to throw
   Dice for the garments of a wretched man,
Not knowing the God’s wonder, or His woe?

Oscar Wilde 1854 - 1900
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