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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. 



Oscar Wilde


Oscar Wilde's other poems:
  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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