A poem by Violet Nicolson, Lawrence Hope, Adela Florence Cory Nicolson (1865 – 1904)
Softly the feathery Palm-trees fade in the violet Distance,
Faintly the lingering light touches the edge of the sea,
Sadly the Music of Waves, drifts, faint as an Anthem’s insistence,
Heard in the aisles of a dream, over the sandhills, to me.
Now that the Lights are reversed, and the Singing changed into sighing,
Now that the wings of our fierce, fugitive passion are furled,
Take I unto myself, all alone in the light that is dying,
Much of the sorrow that lies hid at the Heart of the World.
Sad am I, sad for your loss: for failing the charm of your presence,
Even the sunshine has paled, leaving the Zenith less blue.
Even the ocean lessens the light of its green opalescence,
Since, to my sorrow I loved, loved and grew weary of, you.
Why was our passion so fleeting, why had the flush of your beauty
Only so slender a spell, only so futile a power?
Yet, even thus ever is life, save when long custom or duty
Moulds into sober fruit Love’s fragile and fugitive flower.
Fain would my soul have been faithful; never an alien pleasure
Lured me away from the light lit in your luminous eyes,
But we have altered the World as pitiful man has leisure
To criticise, balance, take counsel, assuredly lies.
All through the centuries Man has gathered his flower, and fenced it,
–Infinite strife to attain; infinite struggle to keep,–
Holding his treasure awhile, all Fate and all forces against it,
Knowing it his no more, if ever his vigilance sleep.
But we have altered the World as pitiful man has grown stronger,
So that the things we love are as easily kept as won,
Therefore the ancient fight can engage and detain us no longer,
And all too swiftly, alas, passion is over and done.
Far too speedily now we can gather the coveted treasure,
Enjoy it awhile, be satiated, begin to tire;
And what shall be done henceforth with the profitless after-leisure,
Who has the breath to kindle the ash of a faded fire?
Ah, if it only had lasted! After my ardent endeavour
Came the delirious Joy, flooding my life like a sea,
Days of delight that are burnt on the brain for ever and ever,
Days and nights when you loved, before you grew weary of me.
Softly the sunset decreases dim in the violet Distance,
Even as Love’s own fervour has faded away from me,
Leaving the weariness, the monotonous Weight of Existence,–
All the farewells in the world weep in the sound of the sea.
A few random poems:
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- Михаил Лермонтов – Венеция
- The Bard by William Gilmore Simms
- Sonnet 151: Love is too young to know what conscience is by William Shakespeare
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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
- The Princess: A Medley: Our Enemies have Fall’n poem – Lord Alfred Tennyson poems
- The Princess: A Medley: O Swallow poem – Lord Alfred Tennyson poems
- The Princess: A Medley: Now Sleeps the Crimson Petal poem – Lord Alfred Tennyson poems
- The Princess: A Medley: Home they Brought her Warrior Dead poem – Lord Alfred Tennyson poems
- The Princess: A Medley: Come down, O Maid poem – Lord Alfred Tennyson poems
- The Princess: A Medley: Ask me no more poem – Lord Alfred Tennyson poems
- The Princess: A Medley: As thro’ the land poem – Lord Alfred Tennyson poems
- The Passing Of Arthur poem – Lord Alfred Tennyson poems
- The Palace of Art poem – Lord Alfred Tennyson poems
- The Owl poem – Lord Alfred Tennyson poems
- The Oak poem – Lord Alfred Tennyson poems
- The Miller’s Daughter poem – Lord Alfred Tennyson poems
- The Merman poem – Lord Alfred Tennyson poems
- The Mermaid poem – Lord Alfred Tennyson poems
- The Marriage Of Geraint poem – Lord Alfred Tennyson poems
- The Lord of Burleigh poem – Lord Alfred Tennyson poems
- The Letters poem – Lord Alfred Tennyson poems
- The Last Tournament poem – Lord Alfred Tennyson poems
- The Lady of Shalott | Best Love Poems
- The Holy Grail poem – Lord Alfred Tennyson poems
More external links (open in a new tab):
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Parallel Translations of Poetry
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.