Here, in her elbow chair, she sits
A soul alert, alive,
A poor old body shrunk and bent-
The queen-bee of the hive.
But hives of bees and hives of men
Obey their several laws;
No fiercely-loving filial throng
This mother-head adores.
This bringer of world-wealth, whereof
None may compute the worth,
Is possibly of no account
To anyone on earth.
Her cap and spectacles, that mean
Dim eyes and scanty hairs,
The humble symbols of her state-
The only crown she wears.
Lacking a kingdom and a court,
A relic of the past,
Almost a cumberer of the ground-
That is our queen at last.
But still not wholly without place,
Nor quite bereft of power;
A useful stopgap-a resource
In many a troubled hour.
She darns the stockings, keeps the house,
The nurseless infant tends,
While the young matrons and the men
Pursue their various ends-
Too keen-set on their great affairs,
Or little plays and pranks,
The things and people of their world,
To give her thought or thanks-
The children on whom all her thought
And time and love were spent
Through half a century of years!
Yet is she well content.
The schooling of those fiery years,
It has not been for nought;
A large philosophy of life
Has self-less service taught.
The outlook from the heights attained
By climbings sore and slow
Discovers worlds of wisdom, hid
From clearest eyes below.
So calmly, in her elbow chair,
Forgotten and alone,
She knits and dreams, and sometimes sighs
But never makes a moan.
Still dwelling with her brood unseen-
Ghosts of a bygone day-
The precious daughter in her grave,
The dear son gone astray-
And others, to whom once she stood
As only light and law,
The near and living, and yet lost,
That need her love no more.
Watching their joyous setting forth
To mingle with their kind,
With scarce a pang, with ne’er a grudge,
At being left behind.
“Let them be young, as I was young,
And happy while they may” . . . .
A dog that waits the night in peace
Since it has had its day.
A few random poems:
- Robert Burns: On The Seas And Far Away:
- Robert Burns: Sappho Redivivus: Fragment
- Аля Кудряшева – Октябрь был дождем, непонятным месяцем
- A Woman Waits for Me. by Walt Whitman
- Davideis Sacred Poem Troubles David Excerpt
- The Unborn by Sharon Olds
- Crazy Jane On The Day Of Judgment by William Butler Yeats
- Erin! The Tear and the Smile in Thine Eyes by Thomas Moore
- Николай Языков – Романс (Красой небесною прекрасна)
- The Dree Woaks by William Barnes
- Thought. by Walt Whitman
- Because I’ve Learned by William Ellery Leonard
- Sonnet 23 poem – John Milton poems
- Жан де Лафонтен – Лес и Дровосек
- The Rape of the Lock: Canto 2 poem – Alexander Pope poems | Poetry Monster
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
- Sonnet 71: No longer mourn for me when I am dead by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 70: That thou art blamed shall not be thy defect by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 6: Then let not winter’s ragged hand deface by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 69: Those parts of thee that the world’s eye doth view by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 68: Thus is his cheek the map of days outworn by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 67: Ah, wherefore with infection should he live by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 66: Tired with all these, for restful death I cry by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 65: Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 64: When I have seen by Time’s fell hand defaced by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 63: Against my love shall be, as I am now by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 62: Sin of self-love possesseth all mine eye by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 61: Is it thy will thy image should keep open by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 60: Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 5: Those hours, that with gentle work did frame by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 59: If there be nothing new, but that which is by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 58: That god forbid, that made me first your slave by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 57: Being your slave, what should I do but tend by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 56: Sweet love, renew thy force, be it not said by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 55: Not marble, nor the gilded monuments by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 95: How sweet and lovely dost thou make the shame by William Shakespeare
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.