Song Of Jasoda

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

Had I been young I could have claimed to fold thee

For many days against my eager breast;

But, as things are, how can I hope to hold thee

Once thou hast wakened from this fleeting rest?

Clear shone the moonlight, so that thou couldst find me,

Yet not so clear that thou couldst see my face,

Where in the shadow of the palms behind me

I waited for thy steps, for thy embrace.

What reck I now my morning life was lonely?

For widowed feet the ways are always rough.

Though thou hast come to me at sunset only,

Still thou hast come, my Lord, it is enough.

Ah, mine no more the glow of dawning beauty,

The fragrance and the dainty gloss of youth,

Worn by long years of solitude and duty,

I have no bloom to offer thee in truth.

Yet, since these eyes of mine have never wandered,

Still may they gleam with long forgotten light.

Since in no wanton way my youth was squandered,

Some sense of youth still clings to me to-night.

_Thy_ lips are fresh as dew on budding roses,

The gold of dawn still lingers in thy hair,

While the abandonment of sleep discloses

How every attitude of youth is fair.

Thou art so pale, I hardly dare caress thee,

Too brown my fingers show against the white.

Ahi, the glory, that I should possess thee,

Ahi, the grief, but for a single night!

The tulip tree has pallid golden flowers

That grow more rosy as their petals fade;

Such is the splendour of my evening hours

Whose time of youth was wasted in the shade.

I shall not wait to see to-morrow’s morning,

Too bright the golden dawn for me,–too bright,–

How could I bear thine eyes’ unconscious scorning

Of what so pleased thee in the dimmer light?

It may be wine had brought some brief illusion,

Filling thy brain with rainbow fantasy,

Or youth, with moonlight, making sweet collusion,

Threw an alluring glamour over me

Therefore I leave thee softly, to awaken

When the first sun rays warm thy blue-veined breast,

Smiling and all unknowing I have taken

The poppied drink that brings me endless rest.

Thus would I have thee rise; thy fancy laden

With the vague sweetness of the bygone night,

Thinking of me as some consenting maiden,

Whose beauty blossomed first for thy delight.

While I, if any kindly visions hover

Around the silence of my last repose,

Shall dream of thee, my pale and radiant lover,

Who made my life so lovely at its close!

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Poems in English 

• Sonnet 94: They that have power to hurt and will do none by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 93: So shall I live, supposing thou art true by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 92: But do thy worst to steal thy self away by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 91: Some glory in their birth, some in their skill by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 90: Then hate me when thou wilt; if ever, now by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 8: Music to hear, why hear’st thou music sadly? by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 89: Say that thou didst forsake me for some fault by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 88: When thou shalt be disposed to set me light by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 87: Farewell! Thou art too dear for my possessing by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 86: Was it the proud full sail of his great verse by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 85: My tongue-tied Muse in manners holds her still by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 84: Who is it that says most, which can say more by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 83: I never saw that you did painting need by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 82: I grant thou wert not married to my Muse by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 81: Or I shall live your epitaph to make by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 80: O, how I faint when I of you do write by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 7: Lo, in the orient when the gracious light by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 79: Whilst I alone did call upon thy aid by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 78: So oft have I invoked thee for my Muse by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 77: Thy glass will show thee how thy beauties wear by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare

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