Oscar Wilde | At Verona
AT VERONA by Oscar Wilde HOW steep the stairs within Kings’ houses are For exile-wearied feet as mine to tread, And O how salt and bitter is the bread Which falls from this Hound’s table,–better far That I had died in the red ways of war, Or that the gate of Florence bare my head, Than to live thus, by all things comraded Which seek … Continue reading Oscar Wilde | At Verona