The Ballad of Reading GaolHe did not wear his scarlet coat, For blood and wine are red, And blood and wine were on his hands When they found him with the dead, The poor dead woman whom he loved, And murdered in her bed. He walked amongst the Trial Men In a suit of shabby grey; A cricket cap was on his head, And his step seemed light and gay; But I never saw a man who looked So wistfully at the day. I never saw a man who looked With such a wistful eye Upon that little tent of blue Which prisoners call the sky, And at every drifting cloud that went With sails of silver by. |
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The Ballad of Reading Gaol Oscar Wilde,Latimer J Wilson,F M Buchles and Company No preview available - 2015 |
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Amongst the Trial anguish asphalte BALLAD OF READING bitter look bleed blood and wine blue Which prisoners burning lime call the sky cell Chaplain Christ cleanse cock crew cricket cap dance dead Death Despair Doom drank dreadful fearful thing fetters flattering word flutes fool gloom God's sweet grave hand that held hangman hempen hideous prison-wall killed the thing knew lies little tent looked So wistfully moaning wind mud and sand murderer's never saw sad night and day outcast OVERDUE FEE pray prisoners call READING GAOL rope round and round separate Hell shabby gray shame Silently slays the strong souls in pain staring eyes stark and staring step seemed light stone strange stretch of mud stroke of eight suit of shabby swing swollen purple throat tears tent of blue Terror crept thing he loved thirst tramped walk by night Warder watch him lest weep wistful eye wring his hands yard
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Page 21 - But I never saw a man who looked So wistfully at the day. I never saw a man who looked With such a wistful eye Upon that little tent of blue Which prisoners call the sky, And at every drifting cloud that went With sails of silver by.
Page 1 - HE did not wear his scarlet coat, For blood and wine are red, And blood and wine were on his hands When they found him with the dead, The poor dead woman whom he loved, And murdered in her bed.
Page 11 - ... watched him when he rose to weep, And when he crouched to pray; Who watched him lest himself should rob Their scaffold of its prey. The Governor was strong upon The Regulations Act: The Doctor said that Death was but A scientific fact: And twice a day the Chaplain called, And left a little tract. And twice a day he smoked his pipe, And drank his quart of beer: His soul was resolute, and held No hiding-place for fear; He often said that he was glad The hangman's hands were near.
Page 2 - Dear Christ! the very prison walls Suddenly seemed to reel. And the sky above my head became Like a casque of scorching steel; And, though I was a soul in pain, My pain I could not feel.
Page 5 - Slips through the padded door, And binds one with three leathern thongs, That the throat may thirst no more. He does not bend his head to hear The Burial Office read, Nor, while the...
Page 2 - Yet each man kills the thing he loves, By 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!
Page 12 - We tore the tarry rope to shreds With blunt and bleeding nails ; We rubbed the doors, and scrubbed the floors, And cleaned the shining rails : And, rank by rank, we soaped the plank, And clattered with the pails. We sewed the sacks, we broke the stones, We turned the dusty drill : We banged the tins, and bawled the hymns, And sweated on the mill : But in the heart of every man Terror was lying still.
Page 27 - This too I know — and wise it were If each could know the same — That every prison that men build Is built with bricks of shame, And bound with bars lest Christ should see How men their brothers maim.
Page 9 - ... of us Would end the self-same way, For none can tell to what red Hell His sightless soul may stray. At last the dead man walked no more Amongst the Trial Men, And I knew that he was standing up In the black dock's dreadful pen, 160 And that never would I see his face In God's sweet world again. Like two doomed ships that pass in storm We had crossed each other's way: But we made no sign, we said no word, We had no word to say; For we did not meet in the holy night, But in the shameful day.
Page 24 - Out of his mouth a red, red rose! Out of his heart a white! For who can say by what strange way Christ brings his will to light, Since the barren staff the pilgrim bore Bloomed in the great Pope's sight?