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:
- Mora Jobana (My Youth) poem – Amir Khusro poems | Poems and Poetry
- Four Days In Vermont by Robert Creeley
- Sonnet. On Peace poem – John Keats poems
- Омар Хайям – Бытует мнение, что счастье это дар
- Behold, from the land of the farther suns by Stephen Crane
- Robert Burns: The Poet’s Reply To The Threat Of A Censorious Critic: My imprudent lines were answered, very petulantly, by somebody, I believe, a Rev. Mr. Hamilton. In a MS., where I met the answer, I wrote below:-
- One Ran Before by Yvor Winters
- To a Pupil. by Walt Whitman
- Яков Полонский – Памяти С. Я. Надсона
- Nos Immortales by Stephen Vincent Benet
- Leaves Compared With Flowers by Robert Frost
- A Good Boy by Robert Louis Stevenson
- Poems from Makiwane poem – Amitabh Mitra poems | Poems and Poetry
- Angry People by Roger Hayes
- Yes, It Was The Mountain Echo by William Wordsworth
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
- Aubade by William Shakespeare
- A Lover’s Complaint by William Shakespeare
- A Fairy Song by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 128: How oft, when thou, my music, music play’st by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 149: Canst thou, O cruel, say I love thee not by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 148: O me! what eyes hath love put in my head by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 147: My love is as a fever, longing still by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 146: Poor soul, the centre of my sinful earth by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 145: Those lips that Love’s own hand did make by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 144: Two loves I have, of comfort and despair by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 143: Lo, as a careful huswife runs to catch by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 142: Love is my sin, and thy dear virtue hate by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 141: In faith, I do not love thee with mine eyes by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 140: Be wise as thou art cruel; do not press by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 13: O, that you were your self! But, love, you are by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 138: When my love swears that she is made of truth by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 137: Thou blind fool, Love, what dost thou to mine eyes by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 136: If thy soul check thee that I come so near by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 135: Whoever hath her wish, thou hast thy will by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 134: So, now I have confessed that he is thine 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.