A poem by Violet Nicolson, Lawrence Hope, Adela Florence Cory Nicolson (1865 – 1904)
You will be mine; those lightly dancing feet,
Falling as softly on the careless street
As the wind-loosened petals of a flower,
Will bring you here, at the Appointed Hour.
And all the Temple’s little links and laws
Will not for long protect your loveliness.
I have a stronger force to aid my cause,
Nature’s great Law, to love and to possess!
Throughout those sleepless watches, when I lay
Wakeful, desiring what I might not see,
I knew (it helped those hours, from dusk to day),
In this one thing, Fate would be kind to me.
You will consent, through all my veins like wine
This prescience flows; your lips meet mine above,
Your clear soft eyes look upward into mine
Dim in a silent ecstasy of love.
The clustered softness of your waving hair,
That curious paleness which enchants me so,
And all your delicate strength and youthful air,
Destiny will compel you to bestow!
Refuse, withdraw, and hesitate awhile,
Your young reluctance does but fan the flame;
My partner, Love, waits, with a tender smile,
Who play against him play a losing game.
I, strong in nothing else, have strength in this,
The subtlest, most resistless, force we know
Is aiding me; and you must stoop and kiss:
The genius of the race will have it so!
Yet, make it not too long, nor too intense
My thirst; lest I should break beneath the strain,
And the worn nerves, and over-wearied sense,
Enjoy not what they spent themselves to gain.
Lest, in the hour when you consent to share
That human passion Beauty makes divine,
I, over worn, should find you over fair,
Lest I should die before I make you mine.
You will consent, those slim, reluctant feet,
Falling as lightly on the careless street
As the white petals of a wind-worn flower,
Will bring you here, at the Appointed Hour.

A few random poems:
- The Pleasures Of Friendship by Stevie Smith
- Robert Burns: Had I A Cave:
- Strange Fits of Passion Have I Known by William Wordsworth
- Sonnet 111: O, for my sake do you with Fortune chide by William Shakespeare
- In Commendation Of Musick by William Strode
- Олег Бундур – Уроки
- Robert Burns: Elegy On Willie Nicol’s Mare:
- Prospect by Sylvia Plath
- Robert Burns: To A Mountain Daisy: On turning down with the Plough, in April, 1786.
- Sonnet 72: O, lest the world should task you to recite by William Shakespeare
- Argus poem – Alexander Pope
- Олег Бундур – В саду
- Hobbinol; or The Rural Games by William Somervile
- Night Light by Satish Verma
- Human Instrument by Victoria Bukofske
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
- Chronicle
- Change
- Beauty
- Bathing River
- Bathing In The River
- Answer Copy Verses Sent Me Jersey
- Anacreontics The Swallow
- Anacreontics The Epicure
- Anacreontics Drinking
- An Answer To A Copy Of Verses Sent Me To Jersey
- Against Hope
- Against Fruition
- Summer Moon
- Stars
- Love Is Just Like The Rain
- Boy Running In The Rain
- Xai Kou From Book Seeds Of Faith
- Xai Kou1
- Xai Kou0
- Xai Kou
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.