The Singer

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

The singer only sang the Joy of Life,

For all too well, alas! the singer knew

How hard the daily toil, how keen the strife,

How salt the falling tear; the joys how few.

He who thinks hard soon finds it hard to live,

Learning the Secret Bitterness of Things:

So, leaving thought, the singer strove to give

A level lightness to his lyric strings.

He only sang of Love; its joy and pain,

But each man in his early season loves;

Each finds the old, lost Paradise again,

Unfolding leaves, and roses, nesting doves.

And though that sunlit time flies all too fleetly,

Delightful Days that dance away too soon!

Its early morning freshness lingers sweetly

Throughout life’s grey and tedious afternoon.

And he, whose dreams enshrine her tender eyes,

And she, whose senses wait his waking hand,

Impatient youth, that tired but sleepless lies,

Will read perhaps, and reading, understand.

Oh, roseate lips he would have loved to kiss,

Oh, eager lovers that he never knew!

What should you know of him, or words of his?–

But all the songs he sang were sung for you!

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Poems in English 

• Graydigger’s Home by William Stafford by William Stafford
• For My Young Friends Who Are Afraid by William Stafford by William Stafford
• Atavism by William Stafford by William Stafford
• Ask Me by William Stafford by William Stafford
• Allegiances by William Stafford by William Stafford
• Across Kansas by William Stafford by William Stafford
• A Ritual To Read To Each Other by William Stafford by William Stafford
• Sonnet 127: In the old age black was not counted fair by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 126: O thou, my lovely boy, who in thy power by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 125: Were’t aught to me I bore the canopy by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 124: If my dear love were but the child of state by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 123: No, Time, thou shalt not boast that I do change by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 122: Thy gift, thy tables, are within my brain by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 121: Tis better to be vile than vile esteemed by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 120: That you were once unkind befriends me now by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 11: As fast as thou shalt wane, so fast thou grow’st by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 119: What potions have I drunk of Siren tears by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 118: Like as to make our appetite more keen by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 117: Accuse me thus: that I have scanted all by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 116: Let me not to the marriage of true minds by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare

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