---

Oscar Wilde - On the Sale by Auction of Keat`s Love-Letters
Work rating: Medium

These are the letters which Endymion wrote
To one he loved in secret and apart,
And now the brawlers of the auction-mart
Bargain and bid for each poor blotted note,
Aye! for each separate pulse of passion quote
The merchant`s price! I think they love not art
Who break the crystal of a poet`s heart,
That small and sickly eyes may glare or gloat.
Is it not said, that many years ago,
In a far Eastern town some soldiers ran
With torches through the midnight, and began
To wrangle for mean raiment, and to throw
Dice for the garments of a wretched man,
Not knowing the God`s wonder, or his woe?
Source
The script ran 0.001 seconds.