A poem by Violet Nicolson, Lawrence Hope, Adela Florence Cory Nicolson (1865 – 1904)
Ah, my lord, are the tidings true,
That thy mother’s jewels are shapen anew?
I hear that a bride has chosen been,
The stars consulted, the parents seen.
Had I been childless, had never there smiled
The brilliant eyes from the face of a child,
Then at least I had understood
This thing they tell me thou findest good.
But I have been down to the River of Death,
With painful footsteps and shuddering breath,
Seven times; thou hast daughters three,
And four young sons who are fair as thee.
I am not unlovely, over my head
Not twenty summers as yet have sped.
‘T is eleven years since my opening life
Was given to thee by my father’s wife.
Ah, those days–They were lovely to me,
When little and shy I waited for thee.
Till I locked my arms round my lover above,
A child in form but a woman in love.
And I bore thy sons, as a woman should,
Year by year, as is meet and good.
Thy mother was ever content with me–
And Oh, Beloved, I worshipped thee!
And now it’s over; alas, my lord,
Better I felt thy sharpest sword.
I hear she is youthful and fair as I
When I came to thee in the days gone by.
Her breasts are firmer; this bosom slips
Somewhat, weighted by children’s lips.
But they were thy children. Oh, lord my king,
Ah, why hast thy heart devised this thing ?
I am not as the women of this thy land,
Meek and timid, broken to hand.
From the distant North I was given to thee,
Whose daughters are passionate, fierce and free,
I could not dwell by a rival’s side,
I seek a bridegroom, as thou a bride.
The night she yieldeth her youth to thee,
Death shall take his pleasure in me.
A few random poems:
- On The Difficulty Of Conjuring Up A Dryad by Sylvia Plath
- Travel to Infinite Places by Michael Levy
- On Imagination by Phillis Wheatley
- The Tears of Scotland by Tobias Smollett
- From My Last Years. by Walt Whitman
- Is Hiring a Resume Writer Really Worth It?
- When Day Is Done by Rabindranath Tagore
- L’Après-Midi D’un Faune poem – Aldous Huxley poems | Poetry Monster
- the_dormouse_and_the_doctor.html
- how far are you? by Raj Arumugam
- The cake by Mahak Raithatha S
- Mother by Sachin Yadav (Pen Name: Rahul Nachhiketa)
- Passing Breeze by Rabindranath Tagore
- Новелла Матвеева – Отражённым светом
- Joker of the Pack by Shekhar Srinivasan
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.