Poem - "Easter Day" by Oscar Wilde

"Easter Day" 
by Oscar Wilde


The silver trumpets rang across the Dome:



The people knelt upon the ground with awe:



And borne upon the necks of men I saw,


Like some great God, the Holy Lord of Rome.

Priest-like, he wore a robe more white than foam,

And, king-like, swathed himself in royal red,

Three crowns of gold rose high upon his head:

In splendour and in light the Pope passed home.

My heart stole back across wide wastes of years

To One who wandered by a lonely sea,

And sought in vain for any place of rest:

'Foxes have holes, and every bird its nest.

I, only I, must wander wearily,

And bruise my feet, and drink wine salt with tears.'