David Herbert Lawrence

[D.H. Lawrence] (11 September 1885 – 2 March 1930 / Nottinghamshire / England)

David Herbert Lawrence Poems

81. Green 1/1/2004
82. The Virgin Mother 1/1/2004
83. Conundrums 1/1/2004
84. Intimates 1/1/2004
85. Thought 1/1/2004
86. Cruelty And Love 1/1/2004
87. Sorrow 1/1/2004
88. Brooding Grief 1/1/2004
89. Search For Truth 1/1/2004
90. Bat 7/8/2009
91. The Deepest Sensuality 1/1/2004
92. The Ship Of Death 1/1/2004
93. A Baby Running Barefoot 1/1/2004
94. A Youth Mowing 1/1/2004
95. Dreams 1/1/2004
96. Baby Tortoise 7/8/2009
97. The Song Of A Man Who Has Come Through 1/1/2004
98. Birdcage Walk 1/1/2004
99. Conceit 1/1/2004
100. To Women As Far As I'M Concerned 1/1/2004
101. A Sane Revolution 1/1/2004
102. We Are Transmitters 1/1/2004
103. Blue 1/1/2004
104. At The Window 1/1/2004
105. Bei Hennef 11/15/2004
106. Bavarian Gentians 1/1/2004
107. After Many Days 1/1/2004
108. New Year's Eve 1/1/2004
109. A Baby Asleep After Pain 1/1/2004
110. Piano 7/8/2009
111. Belief 1/1/2004
112. Anxiety 1/1/2004
113. Whales Weep Not! 7/8/2009
114. Ballad Of Another Ophelia 1/1/2004
115. A Spiritual Woman 1/1/2004
116. Snake 7/8/2009
117. A Love Song 1/1/2004
118. A Passing Bell 1/1/2004
119. Lies About Love 1/1/2004
120. Butterfly 1/1/2004

Comments about David Herbert Lawrence

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  • Bijay Kant Dubey Bijay Kant Dubey (9/9/2019 12:54:00 PM)

    D.H.Lawrence is a poet of birds, beasts and flowers telling about kangaroos, bats, pansies, Bavarian gentians so fraught with religious mysticism and a search for the dark gods which are but overflows from his pen as poetic tidbits, chit-chats penned down rather than taking seriously, opening the plethora of occasional, eventual, circumstantial, sketchy, autobiographical verses.

    1 person liked.
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  • Timothy (8/11/2019 4:53:00 PM)

    I like the poem about the golden snake and the more recent one about pentacost. Isn't there also a poem about New Mexico telling of the Navajo way of walking in Beauty?

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  • Bijay Kant Dubey (11/15/2018 2:15:00 PM)

    A Georgian, an imagist, Lawrence is a poet of birds, beasts and flowers writing the poetry of the kangaroos, elephants, bats, mosquitoes, snakes, pansies, Bavarian gentians fraught with religious mysticism, launching the ship of death, drifting towards the dark journey of oblivion and a search for the dark gods.

    3 person liked.
    1 person did not like.
  • David Wright (5/25/2018 7:11:00 PM)

    I remember when I was at school all those years ago, remembering a poem by this poet called 'Reynards' Last Run' yet its not listed.....

    3 person liked.
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  • Vikash sharma (5/19/2018 11:33:00 PM)

    David herbert lawrence

    3 person liked.
    1 person did not like.
  • N. P.Hewapathirana (3/24/2018 11:35:00 AM)

    We need D.H. Lawrence poem Bats in details.

    3 person liked.
    1 person did not like.
  • William A. Slusser (3/5/2018 7:08:00 PM)

    D. H. Lawrence's poem Shadows should be included in your list. Shadows may be found in Harold Bloom's volume The Best Poems of the English Language, pp.797-798. I translated it into Spanish, if you are interested.

    4 person liked.
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  • Ward Kallstrom (12/22/2012 1:56:00 AM)

    This a very limited selection, ignoring much of the better, later, work. Why?

    62 person liked.
    12 person did not like.
Best Poem of David Herbert Lawrence

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— ...

Read the full of A Winter's Tale


Always, sweetheart,
Carry into your room the blossoming boughs of cherry,
Almond and apple and pear diffuse with light, that very
Soon strews itself on the floor; and keep the radiance of spring
Fresh quivering; keep the sunny-swift March-days waiting
In a little throng at your door, and admit the one who is plaiting
Her hair for womanhood, and play awhile with her, then bid her depart.

A come and go of March-day loves

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