Selected Poems

by Oscar Wilde

Well, if my heart must break, Dear love, for your sake, It will break in music, I know, Poets' hearts break so.

And at springtide, when the apple-blossoms brush the burnished bosom of the dove, Two young lovers lying in an orchard would have read the story of our love; Would have read the legend of my passion, known the bitter secret of my heart, Kissed as we have kissed, but never parted as we two are fated now to part.