A poem by Violet Nicolson, Lawrence Hope, Adela Florence Cory Nicolson (1865 – 1904)
I
Who was it held that Love was soothing or sweet?
Mine is a painful fire, at its whitest heat.
Who said that Beauty was ever a gentle joy?
Thine is a sword that flashes but to destroy.
Though mine eyes rose up from thy Beauty’s banquet, calm and refreshed,
My lips, that were granted naught, can find no rest.
My soul was linked with thine, through speech and silent hours,
As the sound of two soft flutes combined, or the scent of sister flowers.
But the body, that wretched slave of the Sultan, Mind,
Who follows his master ever, but far behind,
Nothing was granted him, and every rebellious cell
Rises up with angry protest, “It is not well!
Night is falling; thou hast departed; I am alone;
And the Last Sweetness of Love thou hast not given–I have not known!”
II
Somewhere, Oh, My Beloved One, the house is standing,
Waiting for thee and me; for our first caresses.
It may be a river-boat, or a wave-washed landing,
The shade of a tree in the jungle’s dim recesses,
Some far-off mountain tent, ill-pitched and lonely,
Or the naked vault of the purple heavens only.
But the Place is waiting there; till the Hour shall show it,
And our footsteps, following Fate, find it and know it.
Where we shall worship the greatest of all the Gods in his pomp and power,–
I sometimes think that I shall not care to survive that hour!

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External links
Bat’s Poetry Page – more poetry by Fledermaus
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Poems in English
- You are coming! by Preeth Nambiar
- Wish If You…! by Praveen Parasar
- When the universe speaks by Preeth Nambiar
- WATER LILLIES AND ADVICE by PEGGY AYLSWORTH
- Waking up on a rainy morning by Preeth Nambiar
- Wake Oslo up again by Philo Ikonya
- Towards The sky by Pushpendra Singh Baghel
- To Double Lock by Pierre Reverdy
- The way aboard by Preeth Nambiar
- The Theatre of Illusion by Pierre Corneille
- The Survivor by Primo Levi
- The Search by Pornika Ganguly
- The Magic by Preeth Nambiar
- The Love! by Praveen Parasar
- The Last Letter by Priyanka Tungana
- The Fragrance of life by Preeth Nambiar
- The Deeper Shadow by Pierre Reverdy
- The Actor by Preeth Nambiar
- That Light by Paul Hostovsky
- Termites by Piera Chen
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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.