A poem by Violet Nicolson, Lawrence Hope, Adela Florence Cory Nicolson (1865 – 1904)
Heart, my heart, thou hast found thy home!
From gloom and sorrow thou hast come forth,
Thou who wast foolish, and sought to roam
‘Neath the cruel stars of the frozen North.
Thou hast returned to thy dear delights;
The golden glow of the quivering days,
The silver silence of tropical nights,
No more to wander in alien ways.
Here, each star is a well-loved friend;
To me and my heart at the journey’s end.
These are my people, and this my land,
I hear the pulse of her secret soul.
This is the life that I understand,
Savage and simple and sane and whole.
Washed in the light of a clear fierce sun,–
Heart, my heart, the journey is done.
See! the painted piece of the skies,
Where the rose-hued opal of sunset lies.
Hear the passionate Koel calling
From coral trees, where the dusk is falling.
See my people, slight limbed and tall.
The maiden’s bosom they scorn to cover:
The breasts that shall call and enthral her lover,
Things of beauty, are free to all.
Free to the eyes, that think no shame
That a girl should bloom like a forest flower.
Who hold that Love is a sacred flame,–
Outward beauty a God-like dower.
Who further regard it as no disgrace
If loveliness lessen to serve the race,
Nor point the finger of jesting scorn
At her who carries the child unborn.
Ah, my heart, but we wandered far
From the light of the slanting fourfold Star!
Oh, palm-leaf thatch, where the melon thrives
Beneath the shade of the tamarind tree,
Thou coverest tranquil, graceful lives,
That want so little, that knew no haste,
Nor the bitter goad of a too-full hour;
Whose soft-eyed women are lithe and tall,
And wear no garment below the knee,
Nor veil or raiment above the waist,
But the beautiful hair, that dowers them all,
And falls to the ground in a scented shower.
The youths return from their swift-flowing bath,
With the swinging grace that their height allows,
Lightly climbing the river-side path,
Their soft hair knotted above their brows.
Elephants wade the darkening river,
Their bells, which tinkle in minor thirds,
Faintly sweet, like passionate birds
Whose warbling wakens a sense of pain,–
Thrill through the nerves and make them quiver,–
Heart, my heart, art thou happy again?
Here is beauty to feast thine eyes.
Here is the land of thy long desire.
See how the delicate spirals rise
Azure and faint from the wood-fed fire.
Where the cartmen wearily share their food,
Ere they, by their bullocks, lie down to rest.
Heart of mine, dost thou find it good
This wide red road by the winds caressed?
This lone Parao, where the fireflies light?
These tom-toms, fretting the peace of night?
Heart, thou hast wandered and suffered much,
Death has robbed thee, and Life betrayed,
But there is ever a solace for such
In that they are not lightly afraid.
The strength that found them the fire to love
Finds them also the force to forget.
Thy joy in thy dreaming lives to prove
Thou art not mortally wounded yet.
Here, ‘neath the arch of the vast, clear sky,
Where range upon range the remote grey hills
Far in the distance recede and die,
There is no space for thy trivial ills.
On the low horizon towards the sea,
Faint yet vivid, the lightnings play,
The lucid air is kind as a kiss,
The falling twilight is cool and grey.
What has sorrow to do with thee ?
Love was cruel? thou now art free.
Life unkind? it has given thee this!
A few random poems:
- Question mark remarks by Mark Miller
- The Talking Oak poem – Lord Alfred Tennyson poems
- The Common A-Took In by William Barnes
- The Silent Muse poem – Alfred Austin
- They’ve Put A Brassiere On A Camel by Shel Silverstein
- Back I Go to My Prison by Ms Tabzeer Yaseen
- Come, Let Us Find by William Henry Davies
- Shrodon Feäir by William Barnes
- Christmas Holidays by Thomas Hood
- Cuchulan’s Fight With The Sea by William Butler Yeats
- Written Juice Lemon
- Inscription For A Moss-House In The Shrubbery At Weston by William Cowper
- Николай Языков – Разбойники
- Infant Joy by William Blake
- Олег Григорьев – Мазохисту на лавке
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
- Year O’ year by Nikunj Sharma
- The Woman From The Archive by Nijole Miliauskaite
- Where we fall by Osman cisse Hanif
- When the Walls Were White by Noele Martin
- When I live with fancy’ by Nithin Purple
- When Trust Fails… by Olaniyi Beloved Abimbola
- The Weavers by Nijole Miliauskaite
- The Weaver by Nijole Miliauskaite
- Vagina Envy by Nin Andrews
- Untitled #13 by Nijole Miliauskaite
- Untitled #12 by Nijole Miliauskaite
- Untitled #11 by Nijole Miliauskaite
- Untitled #10 by Nijole Miliauskaite
- Untitled #1 by Nijole Miliauskaite
- Two sparrows and my heart by Nizar Sartawi
- Turtledove of the Green Land – Dedicated to Tunisian poet, Huda Hajji by Nizar Sartawi
- To Spirituality by Nithin Purple
- To Melancholy- Written On An intensely agitated Day by Nithin Purple
- To Imagination by Nithin Purple
- To Her Beauty by Nithin Purple
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.