Sonnet to Liberty


Not that I love thy children, whose dull eyes 
See nothing save their own unlovely woe, 
Whose minds know nothing, nothing care to know,— 
But that the roar of thy Democracies, 
Thy reigns of Terror, thy great Anarchies, 
Mirror my wildest passions like the sea,— 
And give my rage a brother——! Liberty! 
For this sake only do thy dissonant cries 
Delight my discreet soul, else might all kings 
By bloody knout or treacherous cannonades 
Rob nations of their rights inviolate 
And I remain unmoved—and yet, and yet, 
These Christs that die upon the barricades, 
God knows it I am with them, in some things. 


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Return to the Oscar Wilde Home Page, or . . . Read the next poem; The Grave of Keats

It ain't what you don't know that gets you into trouble. It's what you know for sure that just ain't so.