A summer wind blows through the open porch,
And, ‘neath the rustling eaves,
A summer light of moonrise, calm and pale,
Shines through a vale of leaves.
The soft gusts bring a scent of summer flowers,
Fresh with the falling dew,
And round the doorway, glimmering white as snow,
The tender petals strew.
Clear through the silence, from a reedy pool
The curlew’s whistle thrills;
A lonely mopoke sorrowfully cries
From the far-folding hills.
O lovely night, and yet so sad and strange!
My fingers touch the key;
And down the empty church my Christmas song
Goes ringing, glad and free.
Each sweet note knocks at dreaming memory’s door,
And memory wakes in pain;
The spectral faces she had turn’d away
Come crowding in again.
The air seems full of music all around-
I know not what I hear,
The multitudinous echoes of the past,
Or these few voices near.
Ah me! the dim aisle vaguely widens out,
I see me stand therein;
A glory of grey sculpture takes the light
A winter morn brings in.
No more I smell the fragrant jessamine flowers
That flake a moonlit floor;
The rustling night-breeze and the open porch
I hear and see no more.
Great solemn windows, down a long, long nave
Their shadow’d rainbows fling;
Dark Purbeck shafts, with hoary capitals,
In carven archways spring.
And overhead the throbbing organ waves
Roll in one mighty sea,
Bearing the song the herald angels sang
Of Christ’s nativity.
Dear hands touch mine beneath the open book,
Sweet eyes look in my face,-
They smile, they melt in darkness; I am snatch’d
From my familiar place.
The summer night-wind blows upon my tears;
Its flowery scent is pain.
O cold, white day! O noble minster-when
May I come back again!
To hear the angels’ anthem shake the air,
Where never discord jars,-
The Christmas carols in the windy street,
Under the frosty stars;
The dream-like falling from the still, grey skies,
With falling flakes of snow,
Of mellow chimes from old cathedral bells,
Solemn and sweet and slow.
To hear loved footsteps beating time with mine
Along the churchyard path,-
To see that ring of faces once again
Drawn round the blazing hearth.
When may I come? O Lord, when may I go?
Nay, I must wait Thy will.
Give patience, Lord, and in Thine own best way
My hopes and prayers fulfil.
A few random poems:
- To a Gentleman and Lady on the Death of the Lady’s Brother and Sister by Phillis Wheatley
- Иван Мятлев – Фонарики
- Олег Бундур – Утром
- Robert Burns: The Poet’s Reply To The Threat Of A Censorious Critic: My imprudent lines were answered, very petulantly, by somebody, I believe, a Rev. Mr. Hamilton. In a MS., where I met the answer, I wrote below:-
- Love In Autumn by Sara Teasdale
- Robert Burns: Epitaph For Gavin Hamilton, Esq.:
- Владимир Маяковский – Весь провел советский план… (Главполитпросвет №41)
- On Flatteries (From The Greek) by William Cowper
- Виталий Кодрян – 31 августа
- Who Fancied What A Pretty Sight by William Wordsworth
- Николай Гумилев – Лаос
- Олег Григорьев – Увязался М. за Ж.
- Ballade Of Aucassin poem – Andrew Lang poems
- One Year by Sharon Olds
- Николай Языков – А. И. Готовцевой (Влюблен я, дева-красота)
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
- Not the Pilot. by Walt Whitman
- Not My Enemies Ever Invade Me. by Walt Whitman
- Not Heaving from My Ribb’d Breast Only. by Walt Whitman
- Not Heat Flames up and Consumes. by Walt Whitman
- No Labor-Saving Machine. by Walt Whitman
- Night on The Prairies. by Walt Whitman
- Native Moments. by Walt Whitman
- Mystic Trumpeter, The. by Walt Whitman
- Myself and Mine. by Walt Whitman
- My Picture-Gallery. by Walt Whitman
- Mother and Babe. by Walt Whitman
- Miracles. by Walt Whitman
- Mediums. by Walt Whitman
- Me Imperturbe. by Walt Whitman
- Mannahatta. by Walt Whitman
- Manhattan Streets I Saunter’d, Pondering. by Walt Whitman
- Look Down, Fair Moon. by Walt Whitman
- Longings for Home. by Walt Whitman
- Long, too Long, O Land! by Walt Whitman
- Long I Thought that Knowledge. by Walt Whitman
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.