David Herbert Lawrence

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

David Herbert Lawrence Poems

121. A Winter's Tale 1/1/2004
122. Beautiful Old Age 1/1/2004
123. Self-Pity 1/1/2004
Best Poem of David Herbert Lawrence

Self-Pity

I never saw a wild thing
sorry for itself.
A small bird will drop frozen dead from a bough
without ever having felt sorry for itself.

Read the full of Self-Pity

After Many Days

I wonder if with you, as it is with me,
If under your slipping words, that easily flow
About you as a garment, easily,
Your violent heart beats to and fro!

Long have I waited, never once confessed,
Even to myself, how bitter the separation;
Now, being come again, how make the best
Reparation?

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