A poem by Violet Nicolson, Lawrence Hope, Adela Florence Cory Nicolson (1865 – 1904)
Beauty, the Gift of Gifts, I give to thee.
Pleasure and love shall spring around thy feet
As through the lake the lotuses arise
Pinkly transparent and divinely sweet.
I give thee eyes aglow like morning stars,
Delicate brows, a mist of sable tresses,
That all the journey of thy lie may be
Lit up by love and softened by caresses.
For those who once were proud and softly bred
Shall, kneeling, wait thee as thou passest by,
They who were pure shall stretch forth eager hands
Crying, “Thy pity, Lord, before we die!”
And one shall murmur, “If the sun at dawn
Shall open and caress a happy flower,
What blame to him, although the blossom fade
In the full splendour of his noontide power?”
And one, “If aloes close together grow
It well may chance a plant shall wounded be,
Pierced by the thorntips of another’s leaves,
Thus am I hurt unconsciously by thee.”
For some shall die and many more shall sin,
Suffering for thy sake till seven times seven,
Because of those most perfect lips of thine
Which held the power to make or mar their heaven.
And though thou givest back but cruelty,
Their love, persistent, shall not heed nor care,
All those whose ears are fed with blame of thee
Shall say, “It may be so, but he was fair.”
Ay, those who lost the whole of youth for thee,
Made early and for ever, shamed and sad,
Shall sigh, re-living some sweet memory,
“Ah, once it was his will to make me glad.”
Thy nights shall be as bright as summer days,
The sequence of thy sins shall seem as duty,
Since I have given thee, Oh, Gift of Gifts!–
The pale perfection of unrivalled beauty.

A few random poems:
- Frozen Heart 2
- Her Majesty’s Diamond Jubilee poem – Zameer Careem poems | Poetry Monster
- Prophets at Home by Rudyard Kipling
- Владимир Степанов – Как живете? Что жуете?
- Владимир Маяковский – Стих как бы шофера
- Николай Заболоцкий – Последняя любовь
- Ecco Mormorar L’onde (Now The Waves Murmur) by Torquato Tasso
- Lines to Sir John Whitefoord, Bart by Robert Burns
- Winter Violets poem – Alfred Austin
- Gold! by Thomas Hood
- Robert Burns: Wee Willie Gray:
- How to Die by Siegfried Sassoon
- At the Zoo poem – A. A. Milne poem
- A Pity, We Were Such A Good Invention by Yehuda Amichai
- Arcady Unheeding by Siegfried Sassoon
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
- Central Park At Dusk by Sara Teasdale
- At Sea by Sara Teasdale
- At Night by Sara Teasdale
- Alchemy by Sara Teasdale
- Advice To A Girl by Sara Teasdale
- A Winter Night by Sara Teasdale
- A Winter Bluejay by Sara Teasdale
- A Song Of The Princess by Sara Teasdale
- A Prayer by Sara Teasdale
- A Minuet Of Mozart’s by Sara Teasdale
- A Maiden by Sara Teasdale
- A Little While by Sara Teasdale
- A Fantasy by Sara Teasdale
- A Boy by Sara Teasdale
- A Ballad Of The Two Knights by Sara Teasdale
- Tides by Sara Teasdale
- The Years by Sara Teasdale
- The Mystery by Sara Teasdale
- The Ghost by Sara Teasdale
- The Fountain by Sara Teasdale
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.