Status Updates From Selected poems of Oscar Wil...

I have made my choice, have lived my poems,
and, though youth is gone in wasted days, I have
found the lover's crown of myrtle better
than the poet's crown of bays.

And all, but lust, is turned to dust
In humanity's machine.

But neither milk-white rose nor red
May bloom in prison-air,
The shard, the pebble, and the flint,
Are what they give us there:
For flowers have been known to heal
A common man's despair.

"For not in quiet English fields / Are these, our brothers, laid to rest, / Where we might deck their broken shields / With all the flowers the dead love best.

ok so i do hold a strong resentment for imperialist poetry but this line