Victoria Sackville-West

(1892 - 1962 / England)

Mariana In The North


All her youth is gone, her beautiful youth outworn,
Daughter of tarn and tor, the moors that were once her home
No longer know her step on the upland tracks forlorn
Where she was wont to roam.

All her hounds are dead, her beautiful hounds are dead,
That paced beside the hoofs of her high and nimble horse,
Or streaked in lean pursuit of the tawny hare that fled
Out of the yellow gorse.

All her lovers have passed, her beautiful lovers have passed,
The young and eager men that fought for her arrogant hand,
And the only voice which endures to mourn for her at the last
Is the voice of the lonely land.

Submitted: Thursday, April 15, 2010

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (Mariana In The North by Victoria Sackville-West )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  9. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. COPLA 68 INVOCATION: This Bad Guy World, T (no first name) Wignesan
  2. Yes I Do, Lalit Kaira
  3. Wooden Footprints, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
  4. New Migration Equilibriums Time Shift Es.., Terence G. Craddock
  5. bonnie to your clyde, Mandolyn ...
  6. Purpose Of Life!, Geetha Jayakumar
  7. Corridors, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
  8. My Forever Crying Angel, Vlad Mutuleanu
  9. ThankYou!, Geetha Jayakumar
  10. let the wild rumpus start!, Mandolyn ...

Poem of the Day

poet Edmund Spenser

Of this worlds theatre in which we stay,
My love like the spectator ydly sits
Beholding me that all the pageants play,
Disguysing diversly my troubled wits.
...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]