A poem by Violet Nicolson, Lawrence Hope, Adela Florence Cory Nicolson (1865 – 1904)
At day-break, when the tide was low
He came to bathe his slender feet,
And laughing, sported to and fro,
Across my waters cool and sweet.
Obedient to his Faith’s decree
His sable hair was shorn away,
One curl was left, that floating free,
I longed to deck with silver spray.
His eyes were wide and full of light,
Young eyes, where dreams and fancies glow.
There was no star in Heaven so bright,
And I reflect the stars, and know.
He gave himself to my embrace,
Ah, Youth, confiding and unwise !
My Kisses clustered on his face
How should I render up my prize?
Yet he withdrew ; my waves were weak.
He loitered on my banks awhile,
Shook my caresses from his cheek. ‘
And left me with a careless smile.
I let him leave; my tides were low.
But, seeking succour of the Sea
At noon I felt the breakers flow
Across the bar, and join with me.
I waited in the heat; at length
Again he came to bathe alone.
Then, in the fullness of my strength.
I caught and held him for my own!
His strong young arms apart he flung,
His red lips cried, I had no care.
In eddies round his limbs I clung,
And rippled in and out his hair.
I bore him downwards to the Sea,
The white surf, met us on the sand
His beauty was made one with me
Who saw and loved it on the land.
I laid him down upon the bar,
Played with his hair, and kissed his eyes.
How cold these mortal lovers are!
He sleeps and makes me no replies.
My tides run low; he will not wake,
His hand drifts like an empty shell.
I stole him for his beauty’s sake,
Alas, Enfifa did not well!
His young lips show no stir of breath.
Ah, – I begin to understand,
And I remember: – this is Death!
The haunting terror of the land.
A few random poems:
- Awed by her splendor by Sappho
- Broken wings of a Heart by Saajida Gora
- Bathing River
- Ballade Of Autumn poem – Andrew Lang poems
- Низами Гянджеви – Я бросил молодость в пожар моей любви
- Robert Burns: Halloween: The following poem will, by many readers, be well enough understood; but for the sake of those who are unacquainted with the manners and traditions of the country where the scene is cast, notes are added to give some account of the principal charms and spells of that night, so big with prophecy to the peasantry in the west of Scotland. The passion of prying into futurity makes a striking part of the history of human nature in its rude state, in all ages and nations; and it may be some entertainment to a philosophic mind, if any such honour the author with a perusal, to see the remains of it among the more unenlightened in our own.-R.B.
- Fly Fly Butterfly
- Courting Fidelity by Satish Verma
- To My Brother by Siegfried Sassoon
- English Poetry. Madison Julius Cawein. In June. Мэдисон Джулиус Кавейн.
- Psalm 80 poem – John Milton poems
- Autumn Leaves by Thomas J Camp
- Love In Autumn by Sara Teasdale
- Couplet 3 poem – Amir Khusro poems | Poems and Poetry
- The Faithless Shadows. poem – Aleksandr Blok poems | Poetry Monster
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
- On Returning To England poem – Alfred Austin
- Off Mesolongi poem – Alfred Austin
- Nocturnal Vigils poem – Alfred Austin
- Nature And the Book poem – Alfred Austin
- Nature And the Book poem – Alfred Austin
- My Winter Rose poem – Alfred Austin
- Mozart’s Grave poem – Alfred Austin
- Mozart’s Grave poem – Alfred Austin
- Messalina poem – Alfred Austin
- Off Mesolongi poem – Alfred Austin
- Mafeking poem – Alfred Austin
- Madonna poem – Alfred Austin
- Love’s Wisdom poem – Alfred Austin
- Love’s Unity poem – Alfred Austin
- Love’s Harvest poem – Alfred Austin
- Love’s Fitfulness poem – Alfred Austin
- Wordsworth At Dove Cottage poem – Alfred Austin
- Winter Violets poem – Alfred Austin
- The Wind Speaks poem – Alfred Austin
- “Why should I, from this long and losing strife ” poem – Alfred Austin
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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.