Yet each man kills the thing he lovesBy 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,And some when they are old;Some strangle with the hands of Lust,Some with the hands of Gold:The kindest use a knife, becauseThe dead so soon grow cold.Some love too little, some too long,Some sell, and others buy;Some do the deed with many tears,And some without a sigh:For each man kills the thing he loves,Yet each man does not die.He does not die a death of shameOn a day of dark disgrace,Nor have a noose about his neck,Nor a cloth upon his face,Nor drop feet foremost through the floorInto an empty placeOscar Wilde
Hello Forget-me- Not
Thank you for your Comment This is part of The Ballad Of Reading Goal and witten after his release from Reading Gaol . I like this poem wery much. I am glad that you liked it. Take care yourself , have a nice day
Comments
Thank you for your Comment This is part of The Ballad Of Reading Goal and witten after his release from Reading Gaol . I like this poem wery much. I am glad that you liked it. Take care yourself , have a nice day
Thanks for sharing this nice work from Oscar Wilde. I didn't know this one, at least in english.
Have a nice day,
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