The Dying Prince

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

There are no days for me any more, for the dawn is dark with tears,

There is no rest for me any more, for the night is thick with fears.

There are no flowers nor any fruit, for the sorrowful locusts came,

And the garden is but a memory, the vineyard only a name.

There is no light in the empty sky, no sail upon the sea,

Birds are yet on their nests perchance, but they sing no more to me.

Past–vanished–faded away–all the joys that were.

My youth died down in a swift decline when they married her to despair.

“My lord, the crowd in the Audience Hall; how long wilt thou have them wait?”

I have given my father’s younger son the guidance of the State.

“The steeds are saddled, the Captains call for the orders of the day.”

Tell them that I shall ride no more to the hunting or the fray.

“Sweet the scent of the Moghra flowers;” Brother, it may be so.

“The young, flushed spring is with us again.” Is it? I did not know.

“The Zamorin’s daughter draweth near, on slender golden feet;”

Oh, a curse upon all sweet things say I, to whom they are no more sweet!

Dost think that a man as sick as I can compass a woman’s ease?

That the sons of a man who is like to me could ever find rest or peace?

Tell them to marry them where they will, if their longing be so sore,

Such are the things that all men seek, but I shall seek no more.

All my muscles are fallen in, and the blood deserts my veins,

Every fibre and bone of me is waxen full of pains,

The iron feet of mine enemy’s curse are heavy upon my head,

Look at me and judge for thyself, thou seest I am but dead.

“Then, who is it, Prince, who has done this thing, has sown such a bitter seed,

That we hale him forth to the Market-place, bind him and let him bleed,

That the flesh may shudder and wince and writhe, reddening ‘neath the rod.”

Love is the evil-doer, alas! and how shalt thou scourge a God?

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Poems in English 

• Address To The Scholars Of The Village School Of — by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• Address To Kilchurn Castle, Upon Loch Awe by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• Address To A Child During A Boisterous Winter By My Sister by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• A Wren’s Nest by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• A Whirl-Blast From Behind The Hill by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• A Prophecy. February 1807 by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• A Night Thought by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• A Night-Piece by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• A Narrow Girdle Of Rough Stones And Crags, by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• A Flower Garden At Coleorton Hall, Leicestershire. by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• A Farewell by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• A Character by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• Upon a Lady’s Fall Over a Stile, Gotten by Running From Her Love by William Wycherley by William Wycherley
• To his Indifferent Mistress by William Wycherley by William Wycherley
• The Poor Lover to His Rich Mistress about to Marry His Coxcombly Rival by William Wycherley by William Wycherley
• Sleep and Death by William Wycherley by William Wycherley
• On a Sea Fight, Which the Author was in, Betwixt the English and Dutch by William Wycherley by William Wycherley
• Love and Wine by William Wycherley by William Wycherley
• In Praise of Laziness by William Wycherley by William Wycherley
• Drinking-Song, A. To a Formal, Proud, Sober Coxcomb by William Wycherley by William Wycherley

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