Nay, Lord, not thus! white lilies in the spring,
Sad olive-groves, or silver-breasted dove,
Teach me more clearly of Thy life and love
Than terrors of red flame and thundering.
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listening to the ''Dies Irae'' while watching Michelangelo's frescoes, in the Sistine Chapel.. I can easily understand Oscar Wild's feelings..
Another beautiful sonnet from Oscar's skilful pen.