The ballad of reading gaol

He did not wear his scarlet coat
for blood and wine are red
and blood and wine were on his hands
when they found him with the dead,
the poor woman who he loved,
and murdured her in bed.

Yet each man killes the thing he loves,
by each let this be heard
Some do it with a bitter look,
some without a word
the coward does it with a kiss,
the brave man with a sword.

Som kill their love when they are young,
some when they are old.
Some strangle with the hands of lust,
some with the hands of goald.
The kindest use a knife, bekause
the dead so soon grow cold.

That night that empty corridors
were full of forms of fear.
And up and down the iron town
stole feet we could not hear,
and behind the bars that hide the stars
ehite faces seemed to peer.

It's sweet to dance to violins when life and love is fair
but to dance to flutes to dance to lutes
is delicate and rare but not so sweet with nimble feet
to dance up on the air.

The ballad of reading gaol- Oskar wilde

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