Wilde, Oscar . Rosa Mystica
Electronic Text Center, University of Virginia Library

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EASTER DAY



The silver trumpets rang across the Dome:
     The people knelt upon the ground with awe:
     And borne upon the necks of men I saw,
Like some great God, the Holy Lord of Rome.
Priest-like, he wore a robe more white than foam,
     And, king-like, swathed himself in royal red,
     Three crowns of gold rose high upon his head:
In splendor and in light the Pope passed home.
My heart stole back across wide wastes of years
     To One who wandered by a lonely sea,
     And sought in vain for any place of rest:
"Foxes have holes, and every bird its nest,
     I, only I, must wander wearily,
     And bruise My feet, and drink wine salt with tears."