A poem by Violet Nicolson, Lawrence Hope, Adela Florence Cory Nicolson (1865 – 1904)
“Is it safe to lie so lonely when the summer twilight closes
No companion maidens, only you asleep among the roses?
“Thirteen, fourteen years you number, and your hair is soft and scented,
Perilous is such a slumber in the twilight all untented.
“Lonely loveliness means danger, lying in your rose-leaf nest,
What if some young passing stranger broke into your careless rest?”
But she would not heed the warning, lay alone serene and slight,
Till the rosy spears of morning slew the darkness of the night.
Young love, walking softly, found her, in the scented, shady closes,
Threw his ardent arms around her, kissed her lips beneath the roses.
And she said, with smiles and blushes, “Would that I had sooner known!
Never now the morning thrushes wake and find me all alone.
“Since you said the rose-leaf cover sweet protection gave, but slight,
I have found this dear young lover to protect me through the night!”
A few random poems:
- Ho, everyone that thirsteth poem – A. E. Housman
- Олег Бундур – Письмо от бабушки
- The Identification by Roger McGough
- Владимир Британишский – Дали ему дивизию
- A Whirl-Blast From Behind The Hill by William Wordsworth
- Batty by Shel Silverstein
- Владимир Корнилов – Повторение
- A Song On A Sigh by William Strode
- Иван Киуру – Песня моряка
- Валерий Брюсов – Филлида
- Come, My Beloved, Hear From Me by Robert Louis Stevenson
- Take My Hands
- Иван Бунин – Нет солнца, но светлы пруды
- Юргис Балтрушайтис – Отчаяние
- The Early Purges by Seamus Heaney
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.