a poem that i like....

jacjessen90's picture

TWO LOVES~Lord Alfred Douglas

And as I stood and marveled, lo! across
The garden came a youth; one hand he raised
To shield him from the sun, his wind-tossed hair
Was twined with flowers, and in his hand he bore
A purple bunch of bursting grapes, his eyes
Were clear as crystal, naked all was he,
White as the snow on pathless mountains fore,
Red were his lips as red wine-spilleth that dyes
A marble floor, his brow chalcedony.
And he came near me, with his lips uncurled
And kind, and caught my hand and kissed my mouth,
And gave me grapes to eat, and said, 'Sweet friend,
Come I will show thee shadows of the world
And images of life. See from the South
Comes the pale pageant that hath never an end.'
And lo! within the garden of my dream
I saw two walking on a shining plain
Of golden light. The one did joyous seem
And fair and blooming, and a sweet refrain
Came from his lips; he sang of pretty maids
And joyous love of comely girl and boy,
His eyes were bright, and 'mid the dancing blades
Of golden grass his feet did trip for joy;
And in his hand he held an ivory lute
With strings of gold that were as maidens' hair,
And sang with voice as tuneful as a flute,
And round his neck three chains of roses were.
But he that was his comrade walked aside;
He was full sad and sweet, and his large eyes
Were strange with wondrous brightness, staring wide
With gazing; and he sighed with many sighs
That moved me, and his cheeks were wan and white
Like pallid lilies, and his lips were red
Like poppies, and his hands he clenched tight,
And yet again unclenched, and his head
Was wreathed with moon-flowers pale as lips of death.
A purple robe he wore, o'er-wrought in gold
With the device of a great snake, whose breath
Was fiery flame: which when I did behold
I fell a-weeping, and I cried, 'Sweet youth,
Tell me why, sad and sighing, thou dost rove
These pleasant realms? I pray thee speak me sooth
What is thy name?' He said, 'My name is Love.'
Then straight the first did turn himself to me
And cried, 'He lieth, for his name is Shame,
But I am Love, and I was wont to be
Alone in this fair garden, till he came
Unasked by night; I am true Love, I fill
The hearts of boy and girl with mutual flame.'
Then sighing, said the other, 'Have thy will,
I am the love that dare not speak its name.'


MacAvity's picture


That's very good. When was this written?

jacjessen90's picture

i just looked it up...

it was written in 1894...
~"i'm a real Witch, Before, During AND After my coffee!"

Lehcure's picture

This is a sad poem, but it

This is a sad poem, but it gives me pleasure to read it, too. I've never read it before, thanks

jacjessen90's picture

you're welcome

it's not the full text though... i cut the first paragraph because it seemed rather teadious...
~"i'm a real Witch, Before, During AND After my coffee!"

elph's picture

Replace intimation of...

...boy-girl to boy-boy (at poem's conclusion)... and you'll find the true underlying sentiment of this great work. Sad that Shame was obliged to be recognized...

Lord Alfred Douglas was quite gay... and one of Oscar Wilde's lovers!

socialist's picture


He and Oscar should have made an It Gets Better video.