A poem by Violet Nicolson, Lawrence Hope, Adela Florence Cory Nicolson (1865 – 1904)
Was it worth while to forego our wings
To gain these dextrous hands ?
Truly they fashion us wonderful things
As the fancy of man demands.
But–to fly! to sail through the lucid air
From crest to violet crest
Of these great grey mountains, quartz-veined and bare,
Where the white clouds gather and rest.
Even to flutter from flower to flower,–
To skim the tops of the trees,–
In the roseate light of a sun-setting hour
To drift on a sea-going breeze.
Ay, the hands have marvellous skill
To create us curious things,–
Baubles, playthings, weapons to kill,–
But–I would we had chosen wings!
A few random poems:
- Владимир Бенедиктов – Одно из двух
- Sunshine through a Cobwebbed Window poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
- One Day You Will Miss Me.. by Rahul S
- Михаил Ломоносов – Надпись на иллюминацию 1747 года перед зимним домом
- Sonnet 128: How oft, when thou, my music, music play’st by William Shakespeare
- Stacking The Straw poem – Amy Clampitt poems | Poems and Poetry
- Алексей Жемчужников – Раскаяние
- Юнна Мориц – Разноцветные котята
- From The North by Sara Teasdale
- Наум Коржавин – Перевал
- A Sea-Shore Grave. To M. J. L. by Sidney Lanier
- Purdah by Sylvia Plath
- Владимир Маяковский – Ни на Европу не надейся, ни на прокукиш, надейся только на свои руки (Главполитпросвет №343)
- It was an April morning: fresh and clear by William Wordsworth
- last_word_to_childhood.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
- Sonnet 115: Those lines that I before have writ do lie by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 114: Or whether doth my mind, being crowned with you by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 113: Since I left you, mine eye is in my mind by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 112: Your love and pity doth th’ impression fill by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 111: O, for my sake do you with Fortune chide by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 110: Alas, ’tis true, I have gone here and there by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 10: For shame, deny that thou bear’st love to any by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 109: O, never say that I was false of heart by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 108: What’s in the brain that ink may character by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 107: Not mine own fears, nor the prophetic soul by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 106: When in the chronicle of wasted time by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 105: Let not my love be called idolatry by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 104: To me, fair friend, you never can be old by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 103: Alack, what poverty my Muse brings forth by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 102: My love is strengthened, though more weak in seeming by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 101: O truant Muse, what shall be thy amends by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 100: Where art thou, Muse, that thou forget’st so long by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet LIV by William Shakespeare
- Silvia by William Shakespeare
- Sigh No More by William Shakespeare
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.