Drunk (David Herbert Lawrence Poem)
Too far away, oh love, I know, To save me from this haunted road, Whose lofty roses break and blow ...
Too far away, oh love, I know, To save me from this haunted road, Whose lofty roses break and blow ...
It is stormy, and raindrops cling like silver bees to the pane, The thin sycamores in the playground are swinging ...
You know what it is to be born alone, Baby tortoise! The first day to heave your feet little by ...
Close your eyes, my love, let me make you blind; They have taught you to see Only a mean arithmetic ...
She bade me follow to her garden where The mellow sunlight stood as in a cup Between the old grey ...
The pine-trees bend to listen to the autumn wind as it mutters Something which sets the black poplars ashake with ...
Between the avenues of cypresses, All in their scarlet cloaks, and surplices Of linen, go the chaunting choristers, The priests ...
Along the avenue of cypresses, All in their scarlet cloaks and surplices Of linen, go the chanting choristers, The priests ...
The little pansies by the road have turned Away their purple faces and their gold, And evening has taken all ...
The sick grapes on the chair by the bed lie prone; at the window The tassel of the blind swings ...
She is large and matronly And rather dirty, A little sardonic-looking, as if domesticity had driven her to it. Though ...
The five old bells Are hurrying and eagerly calling, Imploring, protesting They know, but clamorously falling Into gabbling incoherence, never ...
Thought, I love thought. But not the juggling and twisting of already existent ideas I despise that self-important game. Thought ...
This spring as it comes bursts up in bonfires green, Wild puffing of emerald trees, and flame-filled bushes, Thorn-blossom lifting ...
Look at them standing there in authority The pale-faces, As if it could have any effect any more. Pale-face authority, ...
Ah, my darling, when over the purple horizon shall loom The shrouded mother of a new idea, men hide their ...
At the open door of the room I stand and look at the night, Hold my hand to catch the ...
Oh the green glimmer of apples in the orchard, Lamps in a wash of rain! Oh the wet walk of ...
A faint, sickening scent of irises Persists all morning. Here in a jar on the table A fine proud spike ...
I wish it were spring in the world. Let it be spring! Come, bubbling, surging tide of sap! Come, rush ...
Yours is the shame and sorrow, But the disgrace is mine; Your love was dark and thorough, Mine was the ...
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