Poem: Le Jardin
The lily's withered chalice falls Around its rod of dusty gold, And from the beech-trees on the wold The last wood-pigeon coos and calls. The gaudy leonine sunflower Hangs black and barren on its stalk, And down the windy garden walk The dead leaves scatter, hour by hour. Pale privet-petals white as milk Are blown into a snowy mass: The roses lie upon the grass Like little shreds of crimson silk.
AI analysis available. Enable JavaScript to interact.
About this line
"The lily's withered chalice falls..."
Oscar Fingal O'Flahertie Wills Wilde's contribution to classic is further solidified by the brilliance found in "Poem: Le Jardin"... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...