Explore "Canzonet" by Oscar Wilde on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
I have no store / Of gryphon-guarded gold;
Now, as before, / Bare is the shepherd's fold.
Rubies nor pearls / Have I to gem thy throat;
Yet woodland girls / Have loved the shepherd's note.
Then, pluck a reed / And bid me sing to thee, / For I would feed / Thine ears with melody, / Who art more fair / Than fairest fleur-de-lys, / More sweet and rare / Than sweetest ambergris.
What dost thou fear?
Young Hyacinth is slain, / Pan is not here, / And will not come again.
No hornèd Faun / Treads down the yellow leas, / No God at dawn / Steals through the olive trees.
Hylas is dead, / Nor will he e'er divine / Those little red / Rose-petalled lips of thine.
On the high hill / No ivory dryads play, / Silver and still / Sinks the sad autumn day.