The Closet Professor

Two Loves
By Lord Alfred Douglas

I dreamed I stood upon a little hill,
And at my feet there lay a ground, that seemed
Like a waste garden, flowering at its will
With buds and blossoms. There were pools that dreamed
Black and unruffled; there were white lilies
A few, and crocuses, and violets
Purple or pale, snake-like fritillaries
Scarce seen for the rank grass, and through green nets
Blue eyes of shy peryenche winked in the sun.
And there were curious flowers, before unknown,
Flowers that were stained with moonlight, or with shades
Of Nature’s willful moods; and here a one
That had drunk in the transitory tone
Of one brief moment in a sunset; blades
Of grass that in an hundred springs had been
Slowly but exquisitely nurtured by the stars,
And watered with the scented dew long cupped
In lilies, that for rays of sun had seen
Only God’s glory, for never a sunrise mars
The luminous air of Heaven. Beyond, abrupt,
A grey stone wall, o’ergrown with velvet moss
Uprose; and gazing I stood long, all mazed
To see a place so strange, so sweet, so fair.
And as I stood and marvelled, lo! across
The garden came a youth; one hand he raised
To shield him from the sun, his wind-tossed hair
Was twined with flowers, and in his hand he bore
A purple bunch of bursting grapes, his eyes
Were clear as crystal, naked all was he,
White as the snow on pathless mountains frore,
Red were his lips as red wine-spilith that dyes
A marble floor, his brow chalcedony.
And he came near me, with his lips uncurled
And kind, and caught my hand and kissed my mouth,
And gave me grapes to eat, and said, ‘Sweet friend,
Come I will show thee shadows of the world
And images of life. See from the South
Comes the pale pageant that hath never an end.’
And lo! within the garden of my dream
I saw two walking on a shining plain
Of golden light. The one did joyous seem
And fair and blooming, and a sweet refrain
Came from his lips; he sang of pretty maids
And joyous love of comely girl and boy,
His eyes were bright, and ’mid the dancing blades
Of golden grass his feet did trip for joy;
And in his hand he held an ivory lute
With strings of gold that were as maidens’ hair,
And sang with voice as tuneful as a flute,
And round his neck three chains of roses were.
But he that was his comrade walked aside;
He was full sad and sweet, and his large eyes
Were strange with wondrous brightness, staring wide
With gazing; and he sighed with many sighs
That moved me, and his cheeks were wan and white
Like pallid lilies, and his lips were red
Like poppies, and his hands he clenched tight,
And yet again unclenched, and his head
Was wreathed with moon-flowers pale as lips of death.
A purple robe he wore, o’erwrought in gold
With the device of a great snake, whose breath
Was fiery flame: which when I did behold
I fell a-weeping, and I cried, ‘Sweet youth,
Tell me why, sad and sighing, thou dost rove
These pleasent realms? I pray thee speak me sooth
What is thy name?’ He said, ‘My name is Love.’
Then straight the first did turn himself to me
And cried, ‘He lieth, for his name is Shame,
But I am Love, and I was wont to be
Alone in this fair garden, till he came
Unasked by night; I am true Love, I fill
The hearts of boy and girl with mutual flame.’
Then sighing, said the other, ‘Have thy will,
I am the love that dare not speak its name.’
I am the Love that dare not speak its name.

About the Poem

“I am the Love that dare not speak its name.”

At first glance, this simple line may not seem radical, but it became one of the most infamous phrases in queer literary history. It appears at the end of “Two Loves,” a lyrical, decadent poem by Lord Alfred Douglas that depicts two personified versions of love—one conventional and socially accepted, the other mysterious and sorrowful. The speaker walks in a dreamlike landscape and is approached by two male figures. One exudes joy and ease; the other, pale and burdened, declares himself “the Love that dare not speak its name.” It is a powerful and poetic metaphor for same-sex desire in a world that condemns it.

The phrase was later used by prosecutors in Oscar Wilde’s 1895 trial, where Wilde was asked to explain it. Wilde’s eloquent defense—describing a deep, spiritual love between older and younger men, as seen in Greek culture—only further scandalized the court. The line became symbolic not only of homosexual love in the Victorian era but also of the shame and silence that society forced upon it. Yet, in Wilde’s and Douglas’s hands, it also carried dignity and beauty.
“Two Loves” is part of a larger tradition of homoerotic poetry written in code, metaphor, or allegory—common for queer writers in repressive eras. But Douglas, influenced by the aesthetic movement and emboldened by his association with Wilde, pushes further into clarity. The poem’s final admission is not whispered but proudly declared, even if society cannot bear to hear it. As such, the poem resonates today as both a historical artifact and a testament to the enduring defiance of queer love.

About the Poet

While Douglas is best remembered for his association with Oscar Wilde, he was a poet in his own right. Born in 1870 into British nobility, Lord Alfred Bruce Douglas—nicknamed “Bosie”—was the third son of the Marquess of Queensberry. He was well-educated at Winchester and briefly at Oxford, where he cultivated both his love of literature and his increasingly strained relationship with traditional morality. In 1891, he met Wilde, who was already a renowned playwright and wit. Their relationship was passionate, tumultuous, and deeply influential on both their lives and careers.

Douglas encouraged Wilde to explore more overtly homoerotic themes, even contributing translations of classical gay texts. However, his relationship with Wilde led to public scandal and ultimately Wilde’s imprisonment. After Wilde’s trial and release, Douglas distanced himself from his former lover and, in later life, became a conservative Catholic and vocal critic of homosexuality—a tragic turn that reflects the intense pressures and contradictions of his era.
Despite this retreat, Douglas’s early poetry—particularly “Two Loves”—remains a cornerstone of queer literary history. It captures the longing, the repression, and the quiet bravery of same-sex love at the close of the 19th century. During Pride Month, revisiting Douglas’s work reminds us how far we’ve come—and how the words of those who dared to speak when it was dangerous continue to echo in the hearts of LGBTQ+ readers today.