And must I wear a silken life,
Hemmed in by city walls?
And must I give my garden up
For theatres and balls?
Nay, though the cage be made of gold,
‘Tis better to be free;
The green of the green meadows, love,
Is quite enough for me.
I’d rather ramble through the lanes
Than drive about in town;
I’d rather muse or dream than dance,
When the stars are shining down.
I do not care for diamonds, dear,
But I care a deal for flowers;
And thousands are just creeping out
For the sunshine and the showers.
I like to hear the Household band,
But I love the bird-songs best;
And hark! how they are twittering now
Round each half-hidden nest!
The wind is whispering in the leaves,
And the downy bees begin
To hum in the blossoming sycamores,
And the brook is chiming in.
There is such melody in the woods,
Such music in the air!
The streets are full of life and sound,
And yet ’tis silent there.
I like to see the pictures-ay,
But I am hard to please!
I never saw a picture yet
As great and grand as these;
Such tones of colour as transform
The tender green and brown,
When the pink dawn is flushing up,
Or the red sun sinking down;
Such painting as the chestnut bud
Shows in its opening heart;
Such lights as shine ‘twixt earth and sky
When rain-clouds break apart;
Such soft, warm, subtle tints, as lie
In every mossy patch-
On the blue-brown trunks, now filled with life,
And the humble roof of thatch,-
In the purple hollows of the hills,
In the lichen on the wall,
In the orchard and the feathery woods,
And the sun-lit waterfall.
I like my humble country ways,
My simple, early meals;
I like to potter about the yard,
With my chickens at my heels.
I’d rather climb this brambly steep,
Where freshest sea-winds blow,
With my old straw hat hanging down my back.
Than canter along the Row.
To me (it’s vulgar, dear, I know)
No fête is half so gay
As a cricket-match on the village green,
Or a picnic in the hay.
Ah, yes! I’m happier as I am,-
I’m ignorant, you see;
And the life of fashion that you love
Would never do for me.

A few random poems:
- The Cloak, The Boat And The Shoes by William Butler Yeats
- The Carter by William Barnes
- When the Great Ark by Rudyard Kipling
- Written After Leaving Her At New Burns by William Cowper
- One Lonely Afternoon by Russell Edson
- Юрий Левитанский – Не брести мне сушею
- The Humstrum by William Barnes
- New York at Night poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
- A Prophecy. February 1807 by William Wordsworth
- Николай Языков – Элегии (Скажи: когда)
- Dust by Sara Teasdale
- Agonizing picture of human existence(Rural Life) by Seema Gupta
- Eclogue:–The Common A-Took In by William Barnes
- New York’s Last Gleanings by Matthew Abuelo
- as_with_a_senryu_s_hardening_ridge.html
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
- Nutting by William Wordsworth
- Nuns Fret Not at Their Convent’s Narrow Room by William Wordsworth
- November 1813 by William Wordsworth
- November, 1806 by William Wordsworth
- My Heart Leaps Up by William Wordsworth
- Mutability by William Wordsworth
- Most Sweet it is by William Wordsworth
- Minstrels by William Wordsworth
- Michael Angelo In Reply To The Passage Upon His Staute Of Sleeping Night by William Wordsworth
- Michael: A Pastoral Poem by William Wordsworth
- Methought I Saw The Footsteps Of A Throne by William Wordsworth
- Memory by William Wordsworth
- Memorials Of A Tour Of Scotland, 1803 VI. Glen-Almain, Or, The Narrow Glen by William Wordsworth
- Memorials Of A Tour In Scotland, by William Wordsworth
- Memorials Of A Tour In Scotland 1814 I. Suggested By A Beautiful Ruin Upon One Of The Islands Of Lo by William Wordsworth
- Memorials Of A Tour In Scotland, 1803 by William Wordsworth
- Memorials Of A Tour In Scotland, 1803 XIV. Fly, Some Kind Haringer, To Grasmere-Dale by William Wordsworth
- Memorials Of A Tour In Scotland, 1803 XII. Yarrow Unvisited by William Wordsworth
- Memorials Of A Tour In Scotland, 1803 XII. Sonnet Composed At —- Castle by William Wordsworth
- Memorials Of A Tour In Scotland, 1803 X. Rob Roy’s Grave by William Wordsworth
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
Ada Cambridge (1844 – 1926), also known as Ada Cross, was an English-born Australian author and poetess. She wrote more than 25 works of fiction, three volumes of poetry and two autobiographical works.