A poem by Violet Nicolson, Lawrence Hope, Adela Florence Cory Nicolson (1865 – 1904)


Something compels me, somewhere. Yet I see

No clear command in Life’s long mystery.

Oft have I flung myself beside my horse,

To drink the water from the roadside mire,

And felt the liquid through my being course,

Stilling the anguish of my thirst’s desire.

A simple want; so easily allayed;

After the burning march; water and shade.

Also I lay against the loved one’s heart

Finding fulfilment in that resting-place,

Feeling my longing, quenched, was but a part

Of nature’s ceaseless striving for the race.

But now, I know not what they would with me;

Matter or Force or God, if Gods there be.

I wait; I question; Nature heeds me not.

She does but urge in answer to my prayer,

“Arise and do!” Alas, she adds not what;

“Arise and go!” Alas, she says not where!

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