The Window Overlooking The Harbour

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

Sad is the Evening: all the level sand

Lies left and lonely, while the restless sea,

Tired of the green caresses of the land,

Withdraws into its own infinity.

But still more sad this white and chilly Dawn

Filling the vacant spaces of the sky,

While little winds blow here and there forlorn

And all the stars, weary of shining, die.

And more than desolate, to wake, to rise,

Leaving the couch, where softly sleeping still,

What through the past night made my heaven, lies;

And looking out across the window sill

See, from the upper window’s vantage ground,

Mankind slip into harness once again,

And wearily resume his daily round

Of love and labour, toil and strife and pain.

How the sad thoughts slip back across the night:

The whole thing seems so aimless and so vain.

What use the raptures, passion and delight,

Burnt out; as though they could not wake again.

The worn-out nerves and weary brain repeat

The question: Whither all these passions tend;–

This curious thirst, so painful and so sweet,

So fierce, so very short-lived, to what end?

Even, if seeking for ourselves, the Race,

The only immortality we know,–

Even if from the flower of our embrace

Some spark should kindle, or some fruit should grow,

What were the use? the gain, to us or it,

That we should cause another You or Me,–

Another life, from our light passion lit,

To suffer like ourselves awhile and die.

What aim, what end indeed? Our being runs

In a closed circle. All we know or see

Tends to assure us that a thousand Suns,

Teeming perchance with life, have ceased to be.

Ah, the grey Dawn seems more than desolate,

And the past night of passion worse than waste,

Love but a useless flower, that soon or late,

Turns to a fruit with bitter aftertaste.

Youth, even Youth, seems futile and forlorn

While the new day grows slowly white above.

Pale and reproachful comes the chilly Dawn

After the fervour of a night of love.

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Poems in English 

• Answers by Mark Strand by Poetry In English
• And The Black Scythe With Its Beak of Ibis by Martine Morillon-Carreau by Poetry In English
• After Forever by Mark Miller by Poetry In English
• A World So Different by Mary Etta Metcalf by Poetry In English
• A Poet I knew by Martin Zakovski by Poetry In English
• A Piece Of The Storm by Mark Strand by Poetry In English
• A Photograph on the Desk by Mary Etta Metcalf by Poetry In English
• A Misty Morning by Mary Etta Mietcalf by Poetry In English
• A Cozy Little Room by Mary Etta Metcalf by Poetry In English
• À ce point du voyage by Martine Morillon-Carreau by Poetry In English
• A Dream of Rodney King by Mary TallMountain by Poetry In English
• You Ask Why Sometimes I Say Stop by Marge Piercy by Poetry In English
• Yell of Pain by Maria Ivana Trevisani Bach by Poetry In English
• Year’s End by Marilyn Hacker by Poetry In English
• Winter Promises by Marge Piercy by Poetry In English
• What Are Big Girls Made Of? by Marge Piercy by Poetry In English
• Visiting a Dead Man on a Summer Day by Marge Piercy by Poetry In English
• Upon Julia’s Breast by Marie Starr by Poetry In English
• Unloved, unmoved by Maria Jastine Golo by Poetry In English
• Twas’ the Night Before Christmas and Santa got Drunk by Margaret Marie Hubbard by Poetry In English

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