Why above others was I so blessed
And honoured? to be chosen one
To hold you, sleeping, against my breast,
As now I may hold your only son.
Twelve months ago; that wonderful night!
You gave your life to me in a kiss;
Have I done well, for that past delight,
In return, to have given you this?
Look down at his face, your face, beloved,
His eyes are azure as yours are blue.
In every line of his form is proved
How well I loved you, and only you.
I felt the secret hope at my heart
Turned suddenly to the living joy,
And knew that your life and mine had part
As golden grains in a brass alloy.
And learning thus, that your child was mine,
Thrilled by the sense of its stirring life,
I held myself as a sacred shrine
Afar from pleasure, and pain, and strife,
That all unworthy I might not be
Of that you had deigned to cause to dwell
Hidden away in the heart of me,
As white pearls hide in a dusky shell.
Do you remember, when first you laid
Your lips on mine, that enchanted night?
My eyes were timid, my lips afraid,
You seemed so slender and strangely white.
I always tremble; the moments flew
Swiftly to dawn that took you away,
But this is a small and lovely you
Content to rest in my arms all day.
Oh, since you have sought me, Lord, for this,
And given your only child to me,
My life devoted to yours and his,
Whilst I am living, will always be.
And after death, through the long To Be,
(Which, I think, must surely keep love’s laws,)
I, should you chance to have need of me,
Am ever and always, only yours.
A few random poems:
- Sow by Sylvia Plath
- Олег Григорьев – Однажды Сережа и Оля
- The Battle of the Baltic by Thomas Campbell
- To a President. by Walt Whitman
- Storm-Racked poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
- Lately our poets by Walter Savage Landor
- He comes poem – Yehudah ha-Levi poems | Poetry Monster
- I Rose Up at the Dawn of Day by William Blake
- Robert Burns: O Lay Thy Loof In Mine, Lass:
- The Day Is Gone, And All Its Sweets Are Gone poem – John Keats poems
- Oh You Are Coming by Sara Teasdale
- A Fountain, a Bottle, a Donkey’s Ears, and Some Books by Robert Frost
- Sonnet 66: Tired with all these, for restful death I cry by William Shakespeare
- English Poetry. Philip James Bailey. Festus – 44. Филип Джеймс Бэйли.
- The Road That Runs Beside The River by Thomas Lux
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
- Wild Dark Love Song by Sharmagne Leland-St. John
- Evolution by Sharmagne Leland-St. John
- There Were Dry Red Days by Sharmagne Leland-St. John
- I Said Coffee by Sharmagne Leland-St. John
- Peaceful Battles by Shekhar Srinivasan
- Passed Away Pain by Shalini Samuel
- Pain Became My Friend Today © by Shannen Wrass
- Open sky by Shailendra Chauhan
- On the edge of time by Shailendra Chauhan
- Life-companion by Shailendra Chauhan
- Joker of the Pack by Shekhar Srinivasan
- Its gonna be sunday by Shailendra Singh
- In her reach by Shailendra Chauhan
- Human Spirit by Shawn Ervin
- Emotions in exile by Shailendra Chauhan
- Desire for You by Seema Gupta
- Brother by Shashini Fernanadez
- At The Gate Of A Hospital by Shahida Latif
- Apathy by Shailendra Chauhan
- Agonizing picture of human existence(Rural Life) by Seema Gupta
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.