Ballade of reading Gaol. Wilde Oscar

as molten lead were the tears we shed

      For the blood we had not spilt.

      The Warders with their shoes of felt

      Crept by each padlocked door,

      And peeped and saw, with eyes of awe,

      Grey figures on the floor,

      And wondered why men knelt to pray

      Who never prayed before.

      All through the night we knelt and prayed,

      Mad mourners of a corpse!

      The troubled plumes of midnight were

      The plumes upon a hearse:

      And bitter wine upon a sponge

      Was the savior of Remorse.

      ___

      The cock crew, the red cock crew,

      But never came the day:

      And crooked shape of Terror crouched,

      In the corners where we lay:

      And each evil sprite that walks by night

      Before us seemed to play.

      They glided past, they glided fast,

      Like travelers through a mist:

      They mocked the moon in a rigadoon

      Of delicate turn and twist,

      And with formal pace and loathsome grace

      The phantoms kept their tryst.

      With mop and mow, we saw them go,

      Slim shadows hand in hand:

      About, about, in ghostly rout

      They trod a saraband:

      And the damned grotesques made arabesques,

      Like the wind upon the sand!

      With the pirouettes of marionettes,

      They tripped on pointed tread:

      But with flutes of Fear they filled the ear,

      As their grisly masque they led,

      And loud they sang, and loud they sang,

      For they sang to wake the dead.

      "Oho!" they cried, "The world is wide,

      But fettered limbs go lame!

      And once, or twice, to throw the dice

      Is a gentlemanly game,

      But he does not win who plays with Sin

      In the secret House of Shame."

      No things of air these antics were

      That frolicked with such glee:

      To men whose lives were held in gyves,

      And whose feet might not go free,

      Ah! wounds of Christ! they were living things,

      Most terrible to see.

      Around, around, they waltzed and wound;

      Some wheeled in smirking pairs:

      With the mincing step of demirep

      Some sidled up the stairs:

      And with subtle sneer, and fawning leer,

      Each helped us at our prayers.

      ___

      The morning wind began to moan,

      But still the night went on:

      Through its giant loom the web of gloom