Come, go and practise-get your work-
Do something, Nelly, pray.
I hate to see you moon about
In this uncertain way!
Why do you look so vacant, child?
I fear you must be ill.
Surely you are not thinking of
That Captain Cameron still?
Ah, yes-I fear’d so! You may blush;
I blush for you, my dear;
And it is scarce a week ago
Since Gerald brought him here-
The day he fell in the hunting-field,
And his pretty horse was lamed.
O child-and with your bringing up!
You ought to be ashamed.
Last night I saw you watching him,
And you danced with him thrice;
You turn’d quite red when he spoke to you-
Such manners are not nice.
You, Nelly Gray, should not be seen
(I don’t wish to be harsh)
Running wild, like the servant-girls,
For a red coat and moustache.
Not that he isn’t a gentleman
From spur to shako-brim-
I know good blood when I see it-yes,
I will say that for him.
He does not swagger, nor lisp, nor flirt-
Has none of those vulgar ways;
And he does not talk like a stable-boy,
As the fashion is nowadays.
In fact, I admire him very much-
My dear, you need not fret-
I do; he’s very different from
The rest of Gerald’s set.
He’s very handsome, certainly-
I don’t mind saying so.
He reminds me a bit of your uncle, when
I met him long ago.
He had a silky, long moustache
Of just that golden shade;
And broad Greek brows, with a tint of bronze,
That Indian suns had made.
He was a soldier, too, you know-
As big and strong and tall:
He’d just come home when I saw him first
At Lady Talbot’s ball.
I remember when we were introduced;
By stealth I look’d him o’er-
Such haughty, indolent, gentle eyes,
I never saw before!
I felt so strange when he look’d at me;
I cannot tell you why-
But I seem’d to feel he was mine, to keep
And love, till I should die.
‘Twas very odd-in a moment, too,
Before I knew his name!
But, Nelly-O how the world was changed
And brighten’d, when he came!
I was so restless all that night;-
I did not want to see,
I felt where he moved about the room
While he was away from me.
I was jealous-I could not help it,
Although I struggled hard-
Of the other girls, whose favour’d names
Were written on his card;
They were so rich, and I was poor;
They were so grandly dress’d,
And I so dowdy; and yet, and yet,
I thought he liked me best.
The last long hour he danced with them,
And oh I miss’d him so!
And then I heard our carriage call’d,
And I knew that I must go.
A big lump rose up in my throat
That I could hardly bear;
But, passing through the vestibule,
I saw him standing there.
I knew not where he came from,
But I felt no surprise
When he look’d down from his stately height
With his grave and quiet eyes,
And held his hand for a mute good-night
That said all words could say;-
Ah, love! he made me happy then
For ever and for aye.
Well, well,-but this is nonsense;
How I am running on!-
His golden hair grew thin and grey,
And now he’s dead and gone.
There, go and dress for dinner, child;
It’s getting late, you see;
And-perhaps I’ll ask young Cameron
If he’ll come in to tea.
A few random poems:
- Sonnet 07
- Владимир Маяковский – Трагедия
- Lament For The Two Brothers Slain By Each Others Hand
- Юрий Верховский – Месяцу, заре, звезде, лазури
- Missing
- Rural Reflections
- Hide-And-Seek by Vasko Popa
- Василий Лебедев-Кумач – Москва майская
- The Waste Land by T.S. Eliot
- A Pleäce In Zight by William Barnes
- Fire, Famine, And Slaughter : A War Eclogue by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
- Answer To Stanzas Addressed To Lady Hesketh By Miss Catharine Fanshawe, In Returning A Poem by William Cowper
- Robert Burns: The Wren’s Nest: Fragment
- Song—The Tear-drop—“Wae is my heart” by Robert Burns
- Владимир Высоцкий – Песня Лягушонка
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
- Imitation Of Spenser poem – John Keats poems
- Hyperion. Book III poem – John Keats poems
- Hyperion. Book II poem – John Keats poems
- Hyperion. Book I poem – John Keats poems
- Hyperion, A Vision: Attempted Reconstruction Of The Poem poem – John Keats poems
- Fragment. Where’s The Poet? poem – John Keats poems
- Fragment. Welcome Joy, And Welcome Sorrow poem – John Keats poems
- Fragment Of “The Castle Builder.” poem – John Keats poems
- Fragment Of An Ode To Maia. Written On May Day 1818 poem – John Keats poems
- Fragment: Modern Love poem – John Keats poems
- Faery Songs poem – John Keats poems
- Extracts From An Opera poem – John Keats poems
- Epistle To John Hamilton Reynolds poem – John Keats poems
- Endymion: Book I poem – John Keats poems
- Dedication To Leigh Hunt, Esq. poem – John Keats poems
- Dawlish Fair poem – John Keats poems
- Character Of Charles Brown poem – John Keats poems
- Calidore: A Fragment poem – John Keats poems
- Ben Nevis: A Dialogue poem – John Keats poems
- Asleep! O Sleep A Little While, White Pearl! poem – John Keats poems
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.