Poem by Oscar Wilde

The True Knowledge

Thou knowest all; I seek in vain
What lands to till or sow with seed -
The land is black with briar and weed,
Nor cares for falling tears or rain.

Thou knowest all; I sit and wait
With blinded eyes and hands that fail,
Till the last lifting of the veil
And the first opening of the gate.

Thou knowest all; I cannot see.
I trust I shall not live in vain,
I know that we shall meet again
In some divine eternity. 

1. Les Ballons
2. On the Massacre of the Christians in Bulgaria
3. Fabien Dei Franchi
4. Tristitiae
5. San Miniato

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