And must I wear a silken life,
Hemmed in by city walls?
And must I give my garden up
For theatres and balls?
Nay, though the cage be made of gold,
‘Tis better to be free;
The green of the green meadows, love,
Is quite enough for me.
I’d rather ramble through the lanes
Than drive about in town;
I’d rather muse or dream than dance,
When the stars are shining down.
I do not care for diamonds, dear,
But I care a deal for flowers;
And thousands are just creeping out
For the sunshine and the showers.
I like to hear the Household band,
But I love the bird-songs best;
And hark! how they are twittering now
Round each half-hidden nest!
The wind is whispering in the leaves,
And the downy bees begin
To hum in the blossoming sycamores,
And the brook is chiming in.
There is such melody in the woods,
Such music in the air!
The streets are full of life and sound,
And yet ’tis silent there.
I like to see the pictures-ay,
But I am hard to please!
I never saw a picture yet
As great and grand as these;
Such tones of colour as transform
The tender green and brown,
When the pink dawn is flushing up,
Or the red sun sinking down;
Such painting as the chestnut bud
Shows in its opening heart;
Such lights as shine ‘twixt earth and sky
When rain-clouds break apart;
Such soft, warm, subtle tints, as lie
In every mossy patch-
On the blue-brown trunks, now filled with life,
And the humble roof of thatch,-
In the purple hollows of the hills,
In the lichen on the wall,
In the orchard and the feathery woods,
And the sun-lit waterfall.
I like my humble country ways,
My simple, early meals;
I like to potter about the yard,
With my chickens at my heels.
I’d rather climb this brambly steep,
Where freshest sea-winds blow,
With my old straw hat hanging down my back.
Than canter along the Row.
To me (it’s vulgar, dear, I know)
No fête is half so gay
As a cricket-match on the village green,
Or a picnic in the hay.
Ah, yes! I’m happier as I am,-
I’m ignorant, you see;
And the life of fashion that you love
Would never do for me.
A few random poems:
- A Father Out, An’ Mother Hwome by William Barnes
- To the Garden the World. by Walt Whitman
- Robert Burns: Sappho Redivivus: Fragment
- Body Script by Satish Verma
- After Sunset by William Allingham
- An Untold Tale by Shahida Latif
- A Child by William Ernest Henley
- Михаил Кузмин – Уж не слышен конский топот
- A Stone Is Nobody’s by Russell Edson
- Stars
- They’ve Put A Brassiere On A Camel by Shel Silverstein
- The Judges Of The Little Box by Vasko Popa
- Communal War
- In Memoriam A. H. H.: 131. O living will that shalt endure poem – Lord Alfred Tennyson poems
- Exmoor poem – Amy Clampitt poems | Poems and Poetry
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: My Lord A-Hunting:
- Robert Burns: The Bonie Moor-Hen:
- Robert Burns: Prologue: Spoken by Mr. Woods on his benefit-night, Monday, 16th April, 1787
- Robert Burns: Verses Intended To Be Written Below A Noble Earl’s Picture:
- Robert Burns: Epistle To Mrs. Scott: Gudewife of Wauchope-House, Roxburghshire.
- Robert Burns: Inscription For The Headstone Of Fergusson The Poet:
- Robert Burns: Extempore In The Court Of Session:
- Robert Burns: Bonie Dundee:
- Robert Burns: Rattlin’, Roarin’ Willie:
- Robert Burns: Mr. William Smellie -A Sketch:
- Robert Burns: To Miss Logan, With Beattie’s Poems, For A New-Year’s Gift, Jan. 1, 1787:
- Robert Burns: Address To A Haggis:
- Robert Burns: Address To Edinburgh:
- Robert Burns: Yon Wild Mossy Mountains:
- Robert Burns: A Winter Night :
- Robert Burns: On Sensibility: Fragment
- Robert Burns: Epistle To Major Logan:
- Robert Burns: Tam Samson’s Elegy: When this worthy old sportman went out, last muirfowl season, he supposed it was to be, in Ossian’s phrase, “the last of his fields,” and expressed an ardent wish to die and be buried in the muirs. On this hint the author composed his elegy and epitaph.-R.B., 1787.
- Robert Burns: Composed In Spring:
- Robert Burns: Inscribed On A Work Of Hannah More’s: Presented to the Author by a Lady.
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.