Reverie Of Ormuz The Persian

A poem by Violet Nicolson, Lawrence Hope, Adela Florence Cory Nicolson (1865 – 1904)

Softly the feathery Palm-trees fade in the violet Distance,

Faintly the lingering light touches the edge of the sea,

Sadly the Music of Waves, drifts, faint as an Anthem’s insistence,

Heard in the aisles of a dream, over the sandhills, to me.

Now that the Lights are reversed, and the Singing changed into sighing,

Now that the wings of our fierce, fugitive passion are furled,

Take I unto myself, all alone in the light that is dying,

Much of the sorrow that lies hid at the Heart of the World.

Sad am I, sad for your loss: for failing the charm of your presence,

Even the sunshine has paled, leaving the Zenith less blue.

Even the ocean lessens the light of its green opalescence,

Since, to my sorrow I loved, loved and grew weary of, you.

Why was our passion so fleeting, why had the flush of your beauty

Only so slender a spell, only so futile a power?

Yet, even thus ever is life, save when long custom or duty

Moulds into sober fruit Love’s fragile and fugitive flower.

Fain would my soul have been faithful; never an alien pleasure

Lured me away from the light lit in your luminous eyes,

But we have altered the World as pitiful man has leisure

To criticise, balance, take counsel, assuredly lies.

All through the centuries Man has gathered his flower, and fenced it,

–Infinite strife to attain; infinite struggle to keep,–

Holding his treasure awhile, all Fate and all forces against it,

Knowing it his no more, if ever his vigilance sleep.

But we have altered the World as pitiful man has grown stronger,

So that the things we love are as easily kept as won,

Therefore the ancient fight can engage and detain us no longer,

And all too swiftly, alas, passion is over and done.

Far too speedily now we can gather the coveted treasure,

Enjoy it awhile, be satiated, begin to tire;

And what shall be done henceforth with the profitless after-leisure,

Who has the breath to kindle the ash of a faded fire?

Ah, if it only had lasted! After my ardent endeavour

Came the delirious Joy, flooding my life like a sea,

Days of delight that are burnt on the brain for ever and ever,

Days and nights when you loved, before you grew weary of me.

Softly the sunset decreases dim in the violet Distance,

Even as Love’s own fervour has faded away from me,

Leaving the weariness, the monotonous Weight of Existence,–

All the farewells in the world weep in the sound of the sea.

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• Written With A Slate Pencil On A Stone, On The Side Of The Mountain Of Black Comb by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
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• Written In Very Early Youth by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• Written in March by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• Written in London. September, 1802 by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• Written In Germany On One Of The Coldest Days Of The Century by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• Written In A Blank Leaf Of Macpherson’s Ossian by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• With Ships the Sea was Sprinkled Far and Nigh by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• With How Sad Steps, O Moon, Thou Climb’st the Sky by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• Who Fancied What A Pretty Sight by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• Where Lies The Land To Which Yon Ship Must Go? by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• When To The Attractions Of The Busy World by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• “When I Have Borne In Memory” by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• Weak Is The Will Of Man, His Judgement Blind by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• Water-Fowl Observed Frequently Over The Lakes Of Rydal And Grasmere by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• Waldenses by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• View From The Top Of Black Comb by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• Vernal Ode by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
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