The Crossroads of the Aether
I dreamed of him last night , I saw his face
All radiant and unshadowed of distress ,
And as of old , in music measureless .
I heard his golden voice and marked him trace
Under the common thing the hidden grace ,
And conjure wonder out of emptiness ,
Till mean things put on beauty like a dress
And all the world was an enchanted place .
Lord Alfred Douglas , ' The Dead Poet '
Good taste is the excuse I've always given for leading such a bad life .
Oscar Wilde , ' The Importance of Being Earnest '