A poem by Violet Nicolson, Lawrence Hope, Adela Florence Cory Nicolson (1865 – 1904)
Oh, straight, white road that runs to meet,
Across green fields, the blue green sea,
You knew the little weary feet
Of my child bride that was to be!
Her people brought her from the shore
One golden day in sultry June,
And I stood, waiting, at the door,
Praying my eyes might see her soon.
With eager arms, wide open thrown,
Now never to be satisfied!
Ere I could make my love my own
She closed her amber eyes and died.
Alas! alas! they took no heed
How frail she was, my little one,
But brought her here with cruel speed
Beneath the fierce, relentless sun.
We laid her on the marriage bed
The bridal flowers in her hand,
A maiden from the ocean led
Only, alas! to die inland.
I walk alone; the air is sweet,
The white road wanders to the sea,
I dream of those two little feet
That grew so tired in reaching me.

A few random poems:
- Ballade Of The Royal Game Of Golf poem – Andrew Lang poems
- A Rainy Night poem – André Rostant poems
- Юрий Левитанский – Как зарок от суесловья, как залог
- Dejection: An Ode by Samuel Coleridge
- Николай Карамзин – Стихи к портрету И.И. Дмитриева (Министр, поэт и друг)
- I Want It Now by Roald Dahl
- Aplogize
- Омар Хайям – Если все государства, вблизи и вдали
- Of Clementina by Walter Savage Landor
- A Boy by Sara Teasdale
- Николай Карамзин – Эпитафия Джону Гею
- poem6474.html
- Ode to Fanny poem – John Keats poems
- Олег Бундур – Вид с задней парты
- Doomes-Day: The Tenth Houre by William Alexander
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
- Aubade by William Shakespeare
- A Lover’s Complaint by William Shakespeare
- A Fairy Song by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 128: How oft, when thou, my music, music play’st by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 149: Canst thou, O cruel, say I love thee not by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 148: O me! what eyes hath love put in my head by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 147: My love is as a fever, longing still by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 146: Poor soul, the centre of my sinful earth by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 145: Those lips that Love’s own hand did make by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 144: Two loves I have, of comfort and despair by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 143: Lo, as a careful huswife runs to catch by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 142: Love is my sin, and thy dear virtue hate by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 141: In faith, I do not love thee with mine eyes by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 140: Be wise as thou art cruel; do not press by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 13: O, that you were your self! But, love, you are by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 138: When my love swears that she is made of truth by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 137: Thou blind fool, Love, what dost thou to mine eyes by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 136: If thy soul check thee that I come so near by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 135: Whoever hath her wish, thou hast thy will by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 134: So, now I have confessed that he is thine 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.