ABSTRACT
The longest poem in the volume tells how Charmides obtained access into the sacred secret temple of Minerva, and the terrible vengeance the haughty virgin goddess took upon him, and the maid who loved him. This poem abounds with both the merits and the faults of Mr. Oscar Wilde’s style-it is classical, sad, voluptuous, and full of passages of the most exquisitely musical word painting; but it is cloying from its very sweetness-the elaboration of its details makes it over luscious. It is no mere trick to be able to write thus; it betrays a luxuriant fancy and a great command of language; youth is apt to be exuberant, age will mellow down his muse, and then Mr. Wilde’s undoubted genius will produce something finer even than Charmides.
