Ada Cambridge

[Ada Cross] (21 November 1844 – 19 July 1926 / St Gemans, Norfolk)

Ada Cambridge Poems

81. The Future Verdict 3/2/2010
82. The Hand In The Dark 3/2/2010
83. The Hands That Hang Down 3/2/2010
84. The Kind Word 3/2/2010
85. The Last Battle Of The Cid 3/2/2010
86. The Legend Of Lady Gertrude 3/2/2010
87. The Magic Wand 3/2/2010
88. The Midnight Mass 3/2/2010
89. The Mob 3/2/2010
90. The Night 3/2/2010
91. The Old Maid's Story 3/2/2010
92. The Old Manor House 3/2/2010
93. The Physical Conscience 3/3/2010
94. The Resting-Place 3/2/2010
95. The Season 3/2/2010
96. The Shadow 3/3/2010
97. The Silence In The Church 3/2/2010
98. The Soldier's Grave 3/2/2010
99. The Vain Question 3/2/2010
100. The Virgin Martyr 1/4/2003
101. The Watchman 3/2/2010
102. The Winged Mariners 3/2/2010
103. This Enlightened Age 3/2/2010
104. Tired 3/2/2010
105. To-Morrow 3/2/2010
106. Too Late. 3/3/2010
107. Unstrung 3/2/2010
108. Vows 3/2/2010
109. Wasted 3/2/2010
110. What Of The Night? 1/4/2003
Best Poem of Ada Cambridge


For want of bread to eat and clothes to wear —
Because work failed and streets were deep in snow,
And this meant food and fire — she fell so low,
Sinning for dear life's sake, in sheer despair.
Or, because life was else so bald and bare,
The natural woman in her craved to know
The warmth of passion — as pale buds to blow
And feel the noonday sun and fertile air.

And who condemns? She who, for vulgar gain
And in cold blood, and not for love or need,
Has sold her body to more vile disgrace —
The prosperous matron, with her comely face —
Wife by the law, ...

Read the full of Fallen

The Virgin Martyr

Every wild she-bird has nest and mate in the warm April weather,
But a captive woman, made for love -- no mate, no nest has she.
In the spring of young desire, young men and maids are wed together,
And the happy mothers flaunt their bliss for all the world to see:
Nature's sacramental feast for these -- an empty board for me.

I, a young maid once, an old maid now, deposed, despised, forgotten --
I, like them have thrilled with passion and have dreamed of nuptial rest,
Of the trem

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