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 

• Arrival by William Carlos Williams by William Carlos Williams
• April Is The Saddest Month by William Carlos Williams by William Carlos Williams
• Après le Bain by William Carlos Williams by William Carlos Williams
• Approach Of Winter by William Carlos Williams by William Carlos Williams
• A Sort Of A Song by William Carlos Williams by William Carlos Williams
• A Goodnight by William Carlos Williams by William Carlos Williams
• A Celebration by William Carlos Williams by William Carlos Williams
• Women And Roses by Robert Browning by Anglo File
• Venus, on a fur by Witty Fay by Anglo File
• Ultima Thule by William Ellery Leonard by Anglo File
• To the Victor by William Ellery Leonard by Anglo File
• The Image Of Delight by William Ellery Leonard by Anglo File
• The First Part: Sonnet 5 – How that vast heaven intitled First is roll’d, by William Drummond by Anglo File
• The First Part: Sonnet 4 – Fair is my yoke, though grievous be my pains, by William Drummond by Anglo File
• The First Part: Sonnet 3 – Ye who so curiously do paint your thoughts, by William Drummond by Anglo File
• The First Part: Sonnet 2 – I know that all beneath the moon decays by William Drummond by Anglo File
• The First Part: Sonnet 14 – Nor Arne, nor Mincius, nor stately Tiber, by William Drummond by Anglo File
• The First Part: Sonnet 13 – O sacred blush, impurpling cheeks’ pure skies by William Drummond by Anglo File
• The First Part: Sonnet 12 – Ah! burning thoughts, now let me take some rest, by William Drummond by Anglo File
• The First Part: Sonnet 11 – Lamp of heaven’s crystal hall that brings the hours, by William Drummond by Anglo File

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