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
Talking Writing Monster’s Page –
Batty Writing – the bat’s idle chatter, thoughts, ideas and observations, all original, all fresh
Poems in English
- Here’s to the Mice! by Vachel Lindsay
- On the Road to Nowhere by Vachel Lindsay
- Heart of God by Vachel Lindsay
- On the Garden Wall by Vachel Lindsay
- On the Building of Springfield by Vachel Lindsay
- On Reading Omar Khayyam by Vachel Lindsay
- Niagara by Vachel Lindsay
- My Lady in Her White Silk Shawl by Vachel Lindsay
- Michaelangelo by Vachel Lindsay
- Mark Twain and Joan of Arc by Vachel Lindsay
- Love and Law by Vachel Lindsay
- Look You, I’ll Go Pray by Vachel Lindsay
- Lincoln by Vachel Lindsay
- King Arthur’s Men Have Come Again by Vachel Lindsay
- Incense by Vachel Lindsay
- In Praise of Songs that Die by Vachel Lindsay
- In Memory of a Child by Vachel Lindsay
- I Went Down into the Desert by Vachel Lindsay
- I Heard Immanuel Singing by Vachel Lindsay
- How Samson Bore Away the Gates of Gaza by Vachel Lindsay
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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.