David Herbert Lawrence Poems

The dawn was apple-green,
The sky was green wine held up in the sun,
The moon was a golden petal between.
...

If I could have put you in my heart,
If but I could have wrapped you in myself,
How glad I should have been!
And now the chart
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Look at them standing there in authority
The pale-faces,
As if it could have any effect any more.
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The darkness steals the forms of all the queens,
But oh, the palms of his two black hands are red,
Inflamed with binding up the sheaves of dead
Hours that were once all glory and all queens.
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When she rises in the morning
I linger to watch her;
She spreads the bath-cloth underneath the window
And the sunbeams catch her
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Delicate mother Kangaroo
Sitting up there rabbit-wise, but huge, plump-weighted,
And lifting her beautiful slender face, oh! so much more
gently and finely lined than a rabbit's, or than a hare's,
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This spring as it comes bursts up in bonfires green,
Wild puffing of emerald trees, and flame-filled bushes,
Thorn-blossom lifting in wreaths of smoke between
Where the wood fumes up and the watery, flickering rushes.
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Since I lost you I am silence-haunted,
Sounds wave their little wings
A moment, then in weariness settle
On the flood that soundless swings.
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I have fetched the tears up out of the little wells,
Scooped them up with small, iron words,
Dripping over the runnels.
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I wish it were spring in the world.

Let it be spring!
Come, bubbling, surging tide of sap!
...