Come, go and practise-get your work-
Do something, Nelly, pray.
I hate to see you moon about
In this uncertain way!
Why do you look so vacant, child?
I fear you must be ill.
Surely you are not thinking of
That Captain Cameron still?
Ah, yes-I fear’d so! You may blush;
I blush for you, my dear;
And it is scarce a week ago
Since Gerald brought him here-
The day he fell in the hunting-field,
And his pretty horse was lamed.
O child-and with your bringing up!
You ought to be ashamed.
Last night I saw you watching him,
And you danced with him thrice;
You turn’d quite red when he spoke to you-
Such manners are not nice.
You, Nelly Gray, should not be seen
(I don’t wish to be harsh)
Running wild, like the servant-girls,
For a red coat and moustache.
Not that he isn’t a gentleman
From spur to shako-brim-
I know good blood when I see it-yes,
I will say that for him.
He does not swagger, nor lisp, nor flirt-
Has none of those vulgar ways;
And he does not talk like a stable-boy,
As the fashion is nowadays.
In fact, I admire him very much-
My dear, you need not fret-
I do; he’s very different from
The rest of Gerald’s set.
He’s very handsome, certainly-
I don’t mind saying so.
He reminds me a bit of your uncle, when
I met him long ago.
He had a silky, long moustache
Of just that golden shade;
And broad Greek brows, with a tint of bronze,
That Indian suns had made.
He was a soldier, too, you know-
As big and strong and tall:
He’d just come home when I saw him first
At Lady Talbot’s ball.
I remember when we were introduced;
By stealth I look’d him o’er-
Such haughty, indolent, gentle eyes,
I never saw before!
I felt so strange when he look’d at me;
I cannot tell you why-
But I seem’d to feel he was mine, to keep
And love, till I should die.
‘Twas very odd-in a moment, too,
Before I knew his name!
But, Nelly-O how the world was changed
And brighten’d, when he came!
I was so restless all that night;-
I did not want to see,
I felt where he moved about the room
While he was away from me.
I was jealous-I could not help it,
Although I struggled hard-
Of the other girls, whose favour’d names
Were written on his card;
They were so rich, and I was poor;
They were so grandly dress’d,
And I so dowdy; and yet, and yet,
I thought he liked me best.
The last long hour he danced with them,
And oh I miss’d him so!
And then I heard our carriage call’d,
And I knew that I must go.
A big lump rose up in my throat
That I could hardly bear;
But, passing through the vestibule,
I saw him standing there.
I knew not where he came from,
But I felt no surprise
When he look’d down from his stately height
With his grave and quiet eyes,
And held his hand for a mute good-night
That said all words could say;-
Ah, love! he made me happy then
For ever and for aye.
Well, well,-but this is nonsense;
How I am running on!-
His golden hair grew thin and grey,
And now he’s dead and gone.
There, go and dress for dinner, child;
It’s getting late, you see;
And-perhaps I’ll ask young Cameron
If he’ll come in to tea.

A few random poems:
- Morgan’s Curse by Shel Silverstein
- Владимир Маяковский – Праздновать способы разные, как мы праздник отпразднуем? (РОСТА № 383)
- The Lilac by William Barnes
- A Drunken Man’s Praise Of Sobriety by William Butler Yeats
- Аля Кудряшева – Я этой ночью уйду, не спи
- Николай Некрасов – Встреча душ
- Cavalier Tunes: Give a Rouse by Robert Browning
- Lovesong by Ted Hughes
- silence.html
- Domination Of Black by Wallace Stevens
- A Ballad That We Do Not Perish poem – Zbigniew Herbert poems | Poetry Monster
- The Bath-Tub poem – Ezra Pound poems
- The More Loving One by W. H. Auden
- Юлия Друнина – Два вечера
- There is a life-force within your soul by Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi
External links
Bat’s Poetry Page – more poetry by Fledermaus
Talking Writing Monster’s Page –
Batty Writing – the bat’s idle chatter, thoughts, ideas and observations, all original, all fresh
Poems in English
- Answers by Mark Strand
- And The Black Scythe With Its Beak of Ibis by Martine Morillon-Carreau
- After Forever by Mark Miller
- A World So Different by Mary Etta Metcalf
- A Poet I knew by Martin Zakovski
- A Piece Of The Storm by Mark Strand
- A Photograph on the Desk by Mary Etta Metcalf
- A Misty Morning by Mary Etta Mietcalf
- A Cozy Little Room by Mary Etta Metcalf
- À ce point du voyage by Martine Morillon-Carreau
- A Dream of Rodney King by Mary TallMountain
- You Ask Why Sometimes I Say Stop by Marge Piercy
- Yell of Pain by Maria Ivana Trevisani Bach
- Year’s End by Marilyn Hacker
- Winter Promises by Marge Piercy
- What Are Big Girls Made Of? by Marge Piercy
- Visiting a Dead Man on a Summer Day by Marge Piercy
- Upon Julia’s Breast by Marie Starr
- Unloved, unmoved by Maria Jastine Golo
- Twas’ the Night Before Christmas and Santa got Drunk by Margaret Marie Hubbard
More external links (open in a new tab):
Doska or the Board – write anything
Search engines:
Yandex – the best search engine for searches in Russian (and the best overall image search engine, in any language, anywhere)
Qwant – the best search engine for searches in French, German as well as Romance and Germanic languages.
Ecosia – a search engine that supposedly… plants trees
Duckduckgo – the real alternative and a search engine that actually works. Without much censorship or partisan politics.
Yahoo– yes, it’s still around, amazingly, miraculously, incredibly, but now it seems to be powered by Bing.
Parallel Translations of Poetry
The Poetry Repository – an online library of poems, poetry, verse and poetic works
Ada Cambridge (1844 – 1926), also known as Ada Cross, was an English-born Australian author and poetess. She wrote more than 25 works of fiction, three volumes of poetry and two autobiographical works.