Surface Rights

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

Drifting, drifting down the River,

Tawny current and foam-flecked tide,

Sorrowful songs of lonely boatmen,

Mournful forests on either side.

Thine are the outcrops’ glittering blocks,

The quartz where the rich pyrites gleam,

The golden treasure of unhewn rocks

And the loose gold in the stream.

But,–the dim vast forests along the shore,

That whisper wonderful things o’ nights,–

These are things that I value more,

My beautiful “surface rights.”

Drifting, drifting down the River,–

Stars a-tremble about the sky–

Ah, my lover, my heart is breaking,

Breaking, breaking, I know not why.

Why is Love such a sorrowful thing?

This I never could understand;

Pain and passion are linked together,

Ever I find them hand in hand.

Loose thy hair in its soft profusion,

Let thy lashes caress thy cheek,–

These are the things that express thy spirit,

What is the need to explain or speak?

Drifting, drifting along the River,

Under the light of a wan low moon,

Steady, the paddles; Boatmen, steady,–

Why should we reach the sea so soon?

See where the low spit cuts the water,

What is that misty wavering light?

Only the pale datura flowers

Blossoming through the silent night.

What is the fragrance in thy tresses?

‘T is the scent of the champa’s breath;

The meaning of champa bloom is passion–

And of datura–death!

Sweet are thy ways and thy strange caresses,

That sear as flame, and exult as wine.

But I care only for that wild moment

When my soul arises and reaches thine.

Wistful voices of wild birds calling–

Far, faint lightning towards the West,–

Twinkling lights of a Tyah homestead,–

Ruddy glow on a girl’s bare breast–

Drifting boats on a mournful River,

Shifting thoughts in a dreaming mind,–

We two, seeking the Sea, together,–

When we reach it,–what shall we find?

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Poems in English 

• Sonnet 71: No longer mourn for me when I am dead by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 70: That thou art blamed shall not be thy defect by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 6: Then let not winter’s ragged hand deface by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 69: Those parts of thee that the world’s eye doth view by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 68: Thus is his cheek the map of days outworn by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 67: Ah, wherefore with infection should he live by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 66: Tired with all these, for restful death I cry by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 65: Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 64: When I have seen by Time’s fell hand defaced by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 63: Against my love shall be, as I am now by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 62: Sin of self-love possesseth all mine eye by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 61: Is it thy will thy image should keep open by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 60: Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 5: Those hours, that with gentle work did frame by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 59: If there be nothing new, but that which is by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 58: That god forbid, that made me first your slave by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 57: Being your slave, what should I do but tend by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 56: Sweet love, renew thy force, be it not said by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 55: Not marble, nor the gilded monuments by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 95: How sweet and lovely dost thou make the shame by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare

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