Saturday, July 14, 2012

The Ballad of Reading Goal

Each man kills the thing he loves,
by each let this be heard.
Some do it with a bitter look,
some with a flattering word.
The coward does it with a kiss,
the brave man with a sword.

Some kill their love when they are young,
some when they are old.
Some strangle with the hands of lust,
some with the hands of gold.
The kindest use a knife because,
the dead so soon grow cold.

Some love too little,
some too long, some buy and other sell.
Some do the deed with so many tears,
and some without a sigh.
For each man kills the thing he loves,
yet each man does not die.

Oscar Wilde: The Ballad of Reading Gaol


herself said...

Have you read Blacksmith today??

herself said...

Please tarry awhile

(said Slow. Put on the pan said Greedy Nan, We'll sup before we go.)

Please stay, Himself. Fight this.

Anonymous said...

Children begin by loving their parents. After a time they judge them. Rarely, if ever, do they forgive them. – Oscar Wilde

Himself said...

Have you read Blacksmith today??

See Saturday Roundup.

Himself said...

2012 08:40

"To lose one parent may be regarded as a misfortune... to lose both seems like carelessness"