A poem by Violet Nicolson, Lawrence Hope, Adela Florence Cory Nicolson (1865 – 1904)
Now is the season of my youth,
Not thus shall I always be,
Listen, dear Lord, thou too art young,
Take thy pleasure with me.
My hair is straight as the falling rain,
And fine as morning mist,
I am a rose awaiting thee
That none have touched or kissed.
Do as thou wilt with mine and me,
Beloved, I only pray,
Follow the promptings of thy youth.
Let there be no delay!
A leaf that flutters upon the bough,
A moment, and it is gone,–
A bubble amid the fountain spray,–
Ah, pause, and think thereon;
For such is youth and its passing bloom
That wait for thee this hour,
If aught in thy heart incline to me
Ah, stoop and pluck thy flower!
Come, my Lord, to the temple shade,
Where cooling fountains play,
If aught in thy heart incline to love
Let there be no delay!
Many shall faint with love of me
And I shall slake their thirst,
But Fate has brought thee hither to-day
That thou shouldst be the first.
Old, so old are the temple-walls,
Love is older than they;
But I am the short-lived temple rose,
Blooming for thee to-day.
Thine am I, Prince, and only thine,
What is there more so say ?
If aught in thy heart incline to love
Let there be no delay!
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External links
Bat’s Poetry Page – more poetry by Fledermaus
Talking Writing Monster’s Page –
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Poems in English
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- Conversation with Comrade Lenin by Vladimir Mayakovsky
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- Past One O’Clock … by Vladimir Mayakovsky
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- Attitude To A Miss by Vladimir Mayakovsky
- At the Top of My voice by Vladimir Mayakovsky
- What a beautiful world by Vladimir Marku
- Time by Vladimir Marku
- The Room The Light and Golden Dust by Vishnu J Mohan
- The Ghosts of past, the Angels of future by Vyshnav Shabu Nair
- Signals by Walid Saba
- September Rain by Vishü Rita Krocha
- Rain falling by Vladimir Marku
- Moonlight by Vita Sackville-West
- Night dyes its hair by Vladimir Marku
- Monday by Vishü Rita Krocha
- Love’s Paradox by Vishü Rita Krocha
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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.