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On Hearing the Dies Iræ Sung in the Sistine Chapel (Author: Oscar Wilde)
- 1] Nay, Lord, not thus! white lilies in the spring,
2] Sad olive-groves, or silver-breasted dove,
3] Teach me more clearly of Thy life and love
4] Than terrors of red flame and thundering.
5] The empurpled vines dear memories of Thee bring:
6] A bird at evening flying to its nest,
7] Tells me of One who had no place of rest:
8] I think it is of Thee the sparrows sing.
- 9] Come rather on some autumn afternoon,
10] When red and brown are burnished on the leaves,
11] And the fields echo to the gleaner's song,
12] Come when the splendid fulness of the moon
13] Looks down upon the rows of golden sheaves,
14] And reap Thy harvest: we have waited long.