Page:Writings of Oscar Wilde - Volume 01.djvu/93

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THE GARDEN OF EROS.
79
Already the shrill lark is out of sight,
 Flooding with waves of song this silent dell,—
Ah! there is something more in that bird 's flight
 Than could be tested in a crucible!—
But the air freshens, let us go,—why soon
The woodmen will be here; how we have lived this night of June!

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