A summer wind blows through the open porch,
And, ‘neath the rustling eaves,
A summer light of moonrise, calm and pale,
Shines through a vale of leaves.
The soft gusts bring a scent of summer flowers,
Fresh with the falling dew,
And round the doorway, glimmering white as snow,
The tender petals strew.
Clear through the silence, from a reedy pool
The curlew’s whistle thrills;
A lonely mopoke sorrowfully cries
From the far-folding hills.
O lovely night, and yet so sad and strange!
My fingers touch the key;
And down the empty church my Christmas song
Goes ringing, glad and free.
Each sweet note knocks at dreaming memory’s door,
And memory wakes in pain;
The spectral faces she had turn’d away
Come crowding in again.
The air seems full of music all around-
I know not what I hear,
The multitudinous echoes of the past,
Or these few voices near.
Ah me! the dim aisle vaguely widens out,
I see me stand therein;
A glory of grey sculpture takes the light
A winter morn brings in.
No more I smell the fragrant jessamine flowers
That flake a moonlit floor;
The rustling night-breeze and the open porch
I hear and see no more.
Great solemn windows, down a long, long nave
Their shadow’d rainbows fling;
Dark Purbeck shafts, with hoary capitals,
In carven archways spring.
And overhead the throbbing organ waves
Roll in one mighty sea,
Bearing the song the herald angels sang
Of Christ’s nativity.
Dear hands touch mine beneath the open book,
Sweet eyes look in my face,-
They smile, they melt in darkness; I am snatch’d
From my familiar place.
The summer night-wind blows upon my tears;
Its flowery scent is pain.
O cold, white day! O noble minster-when
May I come back again!
To hear the angels’ anthem shake the air,
Where never discord jars,-
The Christmas carols in the windy street,
Under the frosty stars;
The dream-like falling from the still, grey skies,
With falling flakes of snow,
Of mellow chimes from old cathedral bells,
Solemn and sweet and slow.
To hear loved footsteps beating time with mine
Along the churchyard path,-
To see that ring of faces once again
Drawn round the blazing hearth.
When may I come? O Lord, when may I go?
Nay, I must wait Thy will.
Give patience, Lord, and in Thine own best way
My hopes and prayers fulfil.
A few random poems:
- Two Songs
- Sometimes….Life’s A Beach by Stevens Cadet
- On the Building of Springfield by Vachel Lindsay
- Helen all Alone by Rudyard Kipling
- Day by William Morris
- Ольга Берггольц – Наш сад
- Sonnet 83: I never saw that you did painting need by William Shakespeare
- Interlude: Songs Out Of Sorrow by Sara Teasdale
- The Night Dances by Sylvia Plath
- Live Baits by Satish Verma
- Address to His Elbow-Chair, New Cloath’d, An by William Somervile
- A Japanese Wood-Carving poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
- On the Death of Robert Dundas, Esq., of Arniston by Robert Burns
- On Envy (From The Greek) by William Cowper
- Vietnam Vet befriends an immigrant in Pittsburgh, Pa – ( let’s put it that way ) by Vasil Slavov
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
- Юнна Мориц – Побег
- Юнна Мориц – Осень
- Юнна Мориц – О жизни, о жизни
- Юнна Мориц – Не вспоминай меня
- Юнна Мориц – На Трафальгарской площади ночной
- Юнна Мориц – На смерть Джульетты
- Юнна Мориц – Мой подвал
- Юнна Мориц – Малиновая кошка
- Юнна Мориц – Лето
- Юнна Мориц – Котик
- Юнна Мориц – Комарово
- Юнна Мориц – Это вьюги хрустящий калач
- Юнна Мориц – Это да, это нет
- Юнна Мориц – Дышать любовью, пить её, как воздух
- Юнна Мориц – Дрожащие губы и скрежет плаща
- Юнна Мориц – Цветок
- Юнна Мориц – Букет котов
- Юнна Мориц – Большой секрет для маленькой компании
- Юнна Мориц – Благолепие света
- Юнна Мориц – Бетани
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.