A poem by Violet Nicolson, Lawrence Hope, Adela Florence Cory Nicolson (1865 – 1904)
His back is bent and his lips are blue,
Shivering out in the wet:
“Here’s a florin, my man, for you,
Go and get drunk and forget!”
Right in the midst of a Christian land,
Rotted with wealth and ease,
Broken and draggled they let him stand
Till his feet on the pavement freeze.
God leaves His poor in His vicars’ care,
For He hears the church-bells ring,
His ears are buzzing with constant prayer
And the hymns His people sing.
Can His pity picture the anguish here,
Can He see, through a London fog,
The man who has worked “nigh seventy year”
To die the death of a dog?
No one heeds him, the crowds pass on.
Why does he want to live?
“Take this florin, and get you gone,
Go and get drunk,–and forgive!”
A few random poems:
- An Excursion Steamer Sunk in the Tay by William Topaz McGonagall
- Malmaison poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
- The Tour by Sylvia Plath
- The Great Adventure Of Max Breuck poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
- Distant View Of England From The Sea by William Lisle Bowles
- I Kiss the Feet of Angels poem – A. D. Winans poems | Poetry Monster
- For K. J., Leaving and Coming Back by Marilyn Hacker
- Илья Эренбург – Я не трубач, труба
- Goddess poem – Amitabh Vikram Dwivedi poems | Poems and Poetry
- “The lark confinèd in his cage” poem – Alfred Austin
- Николай Огарев – Выпьем, что ли, Ваня
- From One Who Stays poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
- The Last Meeting by Siegfried Sassoon
- the secrets , we hide by tulip
- Низами Гянджеви – Там, где лик ты светлый явишь
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 94: They that have power to hurt and will do none by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 93: So shall I live, supposing thou art true by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 92: But do thy worst to steal thy self away by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 91: Some glory in their birth, some in their skill by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 90: Then hate me when thou wilt; if ever, now by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 8: Music to hear, why hear’st thou music sadly? by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 89: Say that thou didst forsake me for some fault by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 88: When thou shalt be disposed to set me light by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 87: Farewell! Thou art too dear for my possessing by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 86: Was it the proud full sail of his great verse by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 85: My tongue-tied Muse in manners holds her still by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 84: Who is it that says most, which can say more by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 83: I never saw that you did painting need by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 82: I grant thou wert not married to my Muse by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 81: Or I shall live your epitaph to make by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 80: O, how I faint when I of you do write by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 7: Lo, in the orient when the gracious light by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 79: Whilst I alone did call upon thy aid by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 78: So oft have I invoked thee for my Muse by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 77: Thy glass will show thee how thy beauties wear 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
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.