The Sphinx
Poetry
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Oscar Wilde
The Sphinx Full Poem
The Sphinx
Oscar Wilde (1854 –1900)
In a dim corner of my room
For longer than my fancy thinks,
A beautiful and silent Sphinx
Has watched me through the shifting gloom.
Inviolate and immobile
She does not rise she does not stir
For silver moons are nought to her
And nought to her the suns that reel.
Red follows grey across the air,
The waves of moonlight ebb and flow
But with the Dawn she does not...
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