I.
AS flower to sun its drop of dew
Gives from its crystal cup,
So I, as morning gift to you,
This poor verse offer up.
II.
As flowers upon the summer wind
Their air-born odours shake,
So, in all fragrance you may find,
I give but what I take.
III.
My tree blooms green through snow and heat;
Your love is sap and root,-
And this is but the breathing sweet
Of fairest blossom-shoot.
IV.
An outgrowth of the happy days
In wedded lives begun-
Two lives, in all their work and ways,
Indissolubly one.
V.
The force that was to bind us so
We very dimly knew.
Ah, love! it seems so long ago,
And yet the years are few.
VI.
We did not wait for tides to rise,
Nor cared that winds were rough;
They call’d us foolish-we were wise;
God gave us wealth enough.
VII.
He only knows what precious change
We took of Him for gold;
What blessing such a narrow range
Of circumstance can hold.
VIII.
No troubles now could memory spare,
No lightest touch of pain;
No hand experience of care
Would we unlearn again.
IX.
Such love surrounds, such beauty lies
On our most common needs,
As silver hoar-frost glorifies
The wayside sticks and weeds.
X.
All trials that are overpast,
All cares that are to be,
But make more sacred and more fast
The ties ‘twixt you and me.
XI.
They are but clear lights shining through
The mist that round us rolls;
They are but touchstones, fine and true
For fond and faithful souls.
XII.
They are but fires, to cleanse and clean
Our human love from stain;
For naught of sordid, false, or mean
From these blest fires remain.
XIII.
They are but keys within the wards
Of that last, inmost door,
Where the heart’s dearest treasure-hoards
Are garner’d evermore.
XIV.
Ah, dear! our very griefs are glad
Our every cross is crown’d;
We are not able to be sad,
Such comfort wraps us round.
XV.
How calm the haven where we rest,
Now passion’s storms are past!
How warm and soft the little nest
Which shelters us at last!
XVI.
How-blue, pellucid, and divine-
Through all our days and nights,
The clear eyes of our children shine
Like heavenly beacon-lights!
XVII.
We listen to the laughter sweet
Whose echoes come and go,
The music of little feet
That patter to and fro.
XVIII.
And deepest thoughts of God awake,
Who hath reveal’d Him thus,
And, in His goodness, deign’d to make
His own abode with us.
XIX.
To God, in Christ, we kneel to-day
(Whose will on earth be done);
As He hath made us, let us pray
That He will keep us, one.
XX.
Together, may we feel Him stand
About our path and bed;
Together may we, hand in hand,
His royal highway tread.
XXI.
The dear ones He has given, to be
Of His redeem’d the type-
Together, may we live to see
Their budding promise ripe.
XXII.
And, O my dearest! may we lie,
In our last night of rest,
Asleep together, peacefully,
Upon our Father’s breast.
A few random poems:
- Владимир Маяковский – Раньше были писатели белоручки… (Роста №52)
- 1926 by Weldon Kees
- Beans Taste Fine by Shel Silverstein
- The Time Around Scars by Michael Ondaatje
- The Labyrinth by W H Auden
- In the Waters of Purity by Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi
- Олег Чупров – Душа
- Robert Burns: No Churchman Am I:
- The Jester by Rudyard Kipling
- Resurgam
- Эмиль Верхарн – Я покидаю сна густую сень
- At Algeciras; A Meditaton Upon Death by William Butler Yeats
- Степан Щипачев – По дороге в совхоз
- On Moonlit Heath and Lonesome Bank poem – A. E. Housman
- Untitled XXI by Yunus Emre
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
- Robert Burns: The Young Highland Rover:
- Robert Burns: My Peggy’s Charms:
- Robert Burns: Braving Angry Winter’s Storms:
- Robert Burns: The Banks Of The Devon:
- Robert Burns: Epitaph For Mr. W. Cruikshank:
- Robert Burns: A Rose-Bud By My Early Walk:
- Robert Burns: Blythe Was She:
- Robert Burns: On Scaring Some Water-Fowl In Loch-Turit : A wild scene among the Hills of Oughtertyre.
- Robert Burns: The Bonie Lass Of Albany:
- Robert Burns: Theniel Menzies’ Bonie Mary:
- Robert Burns: Lady Onlie, Honest Lucky:
- Robert Burns: Castle Gordon:
- Robert Burns: Strathallan’s Lament:
- Robert Burns: Epigram On Parting With A Kind Host In The Highlands:
- Robert Burns: Lines On The Fall Of Fyers Near Loch-Ness.: Written with a Pencil on the Spot.
- Robert Burns: The Humble Petition Of Bruar Water: To the noble Duke of Athole.
- Robert Burns: The Birks Of Aberfeldy:
- Robert Burns: Verses Written With A Pencil Over the Chimney-piece in the Parlour of the Inn at Kenmore, Taymouth.:
- Robert Burns: The Libeller’s Self-Reproof:
- 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:-
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
Ada Cambridge (1844 – 1926), also known as Ada Cross, was an English-born Australian author and poetess. She wrote more than 25 works of fiction, three volumes of poetry and two autobiographical works.