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:
- Far Within Us #4 by Vasko Popa
- Crocodile’s Toothache by Shel Silverstein
- A man feared that he might find an assassin by Stephen Crane
- English Poetry. Madison Julius Cawein. Haunted. Мэдисон Джулиус Кавейн.
- Владимир Британишский – И у нас однако ж был Лицей
- Unforgetting by Satish Verma
- Hurry by Marie Howe
- Sonnet CXXVIII by William Shakespeare
- einstein-defining-special-relativity.html
- The peace of wild things by Wendell Berry
- Sonet 52 by William Alexander
- Владимир Гиппиус – Писать стихи
- Counting Sheep by Russell Edson
- Bulgarian Lullaby by Vasil Slavov
- Владимир Британишский – В пыльном, душном, купеческом
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
- A Zong Of Harvest Hwome by William Barnes
- A Wife A-Praïs’d by William Barnes
- A-Haulen O’ The Corn by William Barnes
- A Good Father by William Barnes
- A Bit O’ Fun by William Barnes
- Invictus by William Ernest Henley
- Barmaid by William Ernest Henley
- Ballade of Dead Actors by William Ernest Henley
- Youth And Beauty by William Carlos Williams
- Heel & Toe To The End by William Carlos Williams
- from Book I, Paterson by William Carlos Williams
- Flowers By The Sea by William Carlos Williams
- Dedication For A Plot Of Ground by William Carlos Williams
- Danse Russe by William Carlos Williams
- Complete Destruction by William Carlos Williams
- Complaint by William Carlos Williams
- Children’s Games by William Carlos Williams
- Blizzard by William Carlos Williams
- Berket And The Stars by William Carlos Williams
- Aux Imagistes by William Carlos Williams
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.