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:
- Sonnet CV by William Shakespeare
- Жан де Лафонтен – Война Крыс и Ласок
- Subject to Change by Marilyn L. Taylor
- A Good Knight In Prison by William Morris
- What is Creativity Anyway and How Come the Human Mind is So Good at It?
- To a Sky-Lark by William Wordsworth
- Unstitching by Satish Verma
- Федор Сологуб – Ландыш пленительный
- Dream With Clam-Diggers by Sylvia Plath
- Requiescat poem – Lord Alfred Tennyson poems
- Ольга Берггольц – Два стихотворения дочерям
- English Poetry. Philip James Bailey. Festus – 23.1. Филип Джеймс Бэйли.
- Khabaram raseed imshab poem – Amir Khusro poems | Poems and Poetry
- A Perfect World by Robby Charters
- In Midas’ Country by Sylvia Plath
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 20: A woman’s face with Nature’s own hand painted by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 1: From fairest creatures we desire increase by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 19: Devouring Time blunt thou the lion’s paws by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 18: Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 17: Who will believe my verse in time to come by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 16: But wherefore do not you a mightier way by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 15: When I consider every thing that grows by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 154: The little Love-god lying once asleep by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 153: Cupid laid by his brand and fell asleep by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 152: In loving thee thou know’st I am forsworn by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 151: Love is too young to know what conscience is by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 150: O from what power hast thou this powerful might by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 14: Not from the stars do I my judgement pluck by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 54: O, how much more doth beauty beauteous seem by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 53: What is your substance, whereof are you made by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 52: So am I as the rich whose blessèd key by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 51: Thus can my love excuse the slow offence by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 50: How heavy do I journey on the way by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 4: Unthrifty loveliness, why dost thou spend by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 49: Against that time, if ever that time come 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.