David Herbert Lawrence
David Herbert Lawrence Poems
- A Winter's Tale Yesterday the fields were only grey with ...
- Beautiful Old Age It ought to be lovely to be old to be full...
- A Love Song Reject me not if I should say to you I do forget...
- Butterfly Butterfly, the wind blows sea-ward, strong ...
- Snake A snake came to my water-trough On a hot, hot day, and...
- Anxiety The hoar-frost crumbles in the sun, The crisping ...
David Herbert Lawrence, novelist, short-story writer, poet and essayist, was born in Eastwood, Nottinghamshire, England, in 1885. Though better known as a novelist, Lawrence's first-published works (in 1909) were poems, and his poetry, especially his evocations of the natural world, have since had a significant influence on many poets on both sides of the Atlantic. His early poems reflect the influence of Ezra Pound and Imagist movement, which reached its peak in the early teens of the twentieth century. When Pound attempted to draw Lawrence into his circle of writer-followers, however, Lawrence decided to pursue a more independent path.
He believed in writing poetry that was ... more »
Click here to add this poet to your My Favorite Poets.
A Winter's Tale
Yesterday the fields were only grey with scattered snow,
And now the longest grass-leaves hardly emerge;
Yet her deep footsteps mark the snow, and go
On towards the pines at the hills’ white verge.
I cannot see her, since the mist’s white scarf
Obscures the dark wood and the dull orange sky;
But she’s waiting, I know, impatient and cold, half
Sobs struggling into her frosty sigh.
Why does she come so promptly, when she must know
That she’s only the nearer to the inevitable farewell;
The hill is steep, on the snow my steps are slow— ...