Just as the dawn of Love was breaking
Across the weary world of grey,
Just as my life once more was waking
As roses waken late in May,
Fate, blindly cruel and havoc-making,
Stepped in and carried you away.
Memories have I none in keeping
Of times I held you near my heart,
Of dreams when we were near to weeping
That dawn should bid us rise and part;
Never, alas, I saw you sleeping
With soft closed eyes and lips apart,
Breathing my name still through your dreaming.–
Ah! had you stayed, such things had been!
But Fate, unheeding human scheming,
Serenely reckless came between–
Fate with her cold eyes hard and gleaming
Unseared by all the sorrow seen.
Ah! well-beloved, I never told you,
I did not show in speech or song,
How at the end I longed to fold you
Close in my arms; so fierce and strong
The longing grew to have and hold you,
You, and you only, all life long.
They who know nothing call me fickle,
Keen to pursue and loth to keep.
Ah, could they see these tears that trickle
From eyes erstwhile too proud to weep.
Could see me, prone, beneath the sickle,
While pain and sorrow stand and reap!
Unopened scarce, yet overblown, lie
The hopes that rose-like round me grew,
The lights are low, and more than lonely
This life I lead apart from you.
Come back, come back! I want you only,
And you who loved me never knew.
You loved me, pleaded for compassion
On all the pain I would not share;
And I in weary, halting fashion
Was loth to listen, long to care;
But now, dear God! I faint with passion
For your far eyes and distant hair.
Yes, I am faint with love, and broken
With sleepless nights and empty days;
I want your soft words fiercely spoken,
Your tender looks and wayward ways–
Want that strange smile that gave me token
Of many things that no man says.
Cold was I, weary, slow to waken
Till, startled by your ardent eyes,
I felt the soul within me shaken
And long-forgotten senses rise;
But in that moment you were taken,
And thus we lost our Paradise!
Farewell, we may not now recover
That golden “Then” misspent, passed by,
We shall not meet as loved and lover
Here, or hereafter, you and I.
My time for loving you is over,
Love has no future, but to die.
And thus we part, with no believing
In any chance of future years.
We have no idle self-deceiving,
No half-consoling hopes and fears;
We know the Gods grant no retrieving
A wasted chance. Fate knows no tears.

A few random poems:
- Child’s Park Stones by Sylvia Plath
- The Match poem – Andrew Marvell poems
- Answer To Stanzas Addressed To Lady Hesketh By Miss Catharine Fanshawe, In Returning A Poem by William Cowper
- Olney Hymn 29: Exhortation To Prayer by William Cowper
- Patience poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
- I Know From my Bed by Michael Lee Johnson
- Ольга Седакова – Прощание
- Олег Сердобольский – Футболист
- A Color of the Sky by Tony Hoagland
- Live for the moment, be in the present by Ramesh V Deshpande
- To Charles Cowden Clarke poem – John Keats poems
- Олег Григорьев – Папа вазу опрокинул
- The house where I was born (10) by Yves Bonnefoy
- Lifetime Of Death by Steve Sant
- English Poetry. Madison Julius Cawein. In June. Мэдисон Джулиус Кавейн.
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
- The First Part: Sonnet 10 – Fair Moon, who with thy cold and silver shine by William Drummond
- The First Part: Sonnet 1 – In my first years, and prime yet not at height by William Drummond
- The Editor by William Ellery Leonard
- The Book Of The World by William Drummond
- The Beggar by William Ellery Leonard
- Reading by William Marr
- Premature Blindness by Winston Riley
- May-Night by William Ellery Leonard
- Man’s Knowledge – Ingorance in the Mysteries of God by William Drummond
- Indian Summer by William Ellery Leonard
- In the Small Hours by Wole Soyinka
- In Christ there is No East Or West by John Oxenham
- His Mercy Endureth For Ever by John Oxenham
- Harp Song of the Dane Women by Rudyard Kipling
- God Is Good by John Oxenham
- Gadara, A.D. 31 by John Oxenham
- Freemen by John Oxenham
- Free Men Of God by John Oxenham
- For the Men at the Front by John Oxenham
- Flowers Of The Dust by John Oxenham
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
Violet Nicolson ( 1865 – 1904); otherwise known as Adela Florence Nicolson (née Cory), was an English poetess who wrote under the pseudonym of Laurence Hope, however she became known as Violet Nicolson. In the early 1900s, she became a best-selling author. She committed suicide and is buried in Madras, now Chennai, India.