Snap-Dragon (David Herbert Lawrence Poems)
She bade me follow to her garden where The mellow sunlight stood as in a cup Between the old grey ...
She bade me follow to her garden where The mellow sunlight stood as in a cup Between the old grey ...
Hollow rang the house when I knocked on the door, And I lingered on the threshold with my hand Upraised ...
Ah in the thunder air how still the trees are! And the lime-tree, lovely and tall, every leaf silent hardly ...
Don't you care for my love? she said bitterly. I handed her the mirror, and said: Please address these questions ...
Making his advances He does not look at her, nor sniff at her, No, not even sniff at her, his ...
The pine-trees bend to listen to the autumn wind as it mutters Something which sets the black poplars ashake with ...
The sick grapes on the chair by the bed lie prone; at the window The tassel of the blind swings ...
If you make a revolution, make it for fun, don't make it in ghastly seriousness, don't do it in deadly ...
This is the last of all, this is the last! I must hold my hands, and turn my face to ...
I wish it were spring in the world. Let it be spring! Come, bubbling, surging tide of sap! Come, rush ...
The acrid scents of autumn, Reminiscent of slinking beasts, make me fear Everything, tear-trembling stars of autumn And the snore ...
The five old bells Are hurrying and eagerly calling, Imploring, protesting They know, but clamorously falling Into gabbling incoherence, never ...
Forever nameless Forever unknwon Forever unconceived Forever unrepresented yet forever felt in the soul. (David Herbert Lawrence)
If you live along with all the other people and are just like them, and conform, and are nice you're ...
The moon is broken in twain, and half a moon Before me lies on the still, pale floor of the ...
Between the avenues of cypresses, All in their scarlet cloaks, and surplices Of linen, go the chaunting choristers, The priests ...
There are four men mowing down by the Isar; I can hear the swish of the scythe-strokes, four Sharp breaths ...
Thought, I love thought. But not the juggling and twisting of already existent ideas I despise that self-important game. Thought ...
It is conceit that kills us and makes us cowards instead of gods. Under the great Command: Know thy self, ...
Somewhere the long mellow note of the blackbird Quickens the unclasping hands of hazel, Somewhere the wind-flowers fling their heads ...
The darkness steals the forms of all the queens, But oh, the palms of his two black hands are red, ...
This spring as it comes bursts up in bonfires green, Wild puffing of emerald trees, and flame-filled bushes, Thorn-blossom lifting ...
I will give you all my keys, You shall be my ch?telaine, You shall enter as you please, As you ...
There are only two things now, The great black night scooped out And this fireglow. This fireglow, the core, And ...
When along the pavement, Palpitating flames of life, People flicker round me, I forget my bereavement, The gap in the ...
What large, dark hands are those at the window Lifted, grasping in the yellow light Which makes its way through ...
The quick sparks on the gorse bushes are leaping, Little jets of sunlight-texture imitating flame; Above them, exultant, the peewits ...
Round clouds roll in the arms of the wind, The round earth rolls in a clasp of blue sky, And ...
Had I but known yesterday, Helen, you could discharge the ache Out of the cloud; Had I known yesterday you ...
At evening, sitting on this terrace, When the sun from the west, beyond Pisa, beyond the mountains of Carrara Departs, ...
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