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:
- Subjective Genocide by Marie Starr
- Sonnet 151: Love is too young to know what conscience is by William Shakespeare
- Константин Бальмонт – Мы прячем, душим тонкой сетью лжи
- The Tame Bird Was In A Cage by Rabindranath Tagore
- Denouement Villanelle by Sylvia Plath
- About The Nightingale by Samuel Coleridge
- Less Than The Cloud To The Wind by Sara Teasdale
- Sonet 54 by William Alexander
- Parnell’s Funeral by William Butler Yeats
- Гавриил Державин – На рождение царицы Гремиславы
- Acquainted With the Night by Robert Frost
- Sonnet 67: Ah, wherefore with infection should he live by William Shakespeare
- Владимир Британишский – Баня Быстрицкого
- Cotton and Corn by Thomas Moore
- Жан де Лафонтен – Городская и полевая Крысы
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: Scroggam, My Dearie:
- Robert Burns: When She Cam’ Ben She Bobbed :
- Robert Burns: The Weary Pund O’ Tow:
- Robert Burns: Lines On Fergusson, The Poet :
- Robert Burns: I do Confess Thou Art Sae Fair: Alteration of an Old Poem.
- Robert Burns: My Native Land Sae Far Awa:
- Robert Burns: Thou Gloomy December :
- Robert Burns: Behold The Hour, The Boat, Arrive:
- Robert Burns: Ae Fond Kiss, And Then We Sever:
- Robert Burns: O May, Thy Morn:
- Robert Burns: A Grace After Dinner, Extempore:
- Robert Burns: A Grace Before Dinner, Extempore:
- Robert Burns: The Keekin’-Glass:
- Robert Burns: Divine Service In The Kirk Of Lamington:
- Robert Burns: The Toadeater:
- Robert Burns: Poem On Sensibility:
- Robert Burns: The Song Of Death: Scene-A Field of Battle. Time of the day-evening. The wounded and dying of the victorious army are supposed to join in the following song.
- Robert Burns: Second Epistle To Robert Graham, ESQ., Of Fintry:
- Robert Burns: Epistle To John Maxwell, ESQ., Of Terraughty : On His Birthday.
- Robert Burns: O Kenmure’s On And Awa, Willie:
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.