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New Poems
By
D. H. Lawrence
TO AMY LOWELL
Contents
LETTER
FROM TOWN: THE ALMOND TREE
FLAT
SUBURBS, S.W., IN THE MORNING
LETTER
FROM TOWN: ON A GREY EVENING IN MARCH..
HYDE
PARK AT NIGHT, BEFORE THE WAR
PARLIAMENT
HILL IN THE EVENING
EMBANKMENT
AT NIGHT, BEFORE THE WAR
EMBANKMENT
AT NIGHT, BEFORE THE WAR
AND all hours lon=
g,
the town Roars like a b=
east
in a cave That is wounded there And like to drown; While days rush, wave after w=
ave On
its lair.
An invisible woe
unseals The flood, so it
passes beyond All bounds: the great old city Recumbent roars as it feels The foamy paw of the pond Rea=
ch
from immensity.
But all that it c=
an
do Now, as the tide ris=
es, Is
to listen and hear the grim Waves crash like thunder through The splintered streets, hear =
noises
Roll hollow in the interim.
WHEN I woke, the
lake-lights were quivering on the wall, The
sunshine swam in a shoal across and across, And a hairy, big bee hung over =
the
primulas In the window, his body black fur, and the sound of him cros=
s.
There was somethi=
ng I
ought to remember: and yet I did n=
ot
remember. Why should I? The run- ning lights=
And
the airy primulas, oblivious Of the impending bee--they were fair enough sights.
THE glimmer of the
limes, sun-heavy, sleeping, Goes trembling past me =
up the
College wall. Below, the lawn, in soft blue shade is keeping, The daisy-froth quiesce=
nt,
softly in thrall.
Beyond the leaves
that overhang the street, Along the flagged, clean pave=
ment
summer-white, Passes the world with shadows at their feet Going left and right.
Remote, although I
hear the beggar's cough, See the woman's twinkli=
ng
fingers tend him a coin,=
I sit
absolved, assured I am better off Beyond a world I never =
want
to join.
FLAPPER=
LOVE has crept ou=
t of
her sealéd heart As a
field-bee, black and amber, Breaks from the winter-cell, =
to
clamber Up the warm grass where the sunbeams start.
Mischief has come=
in
her dawning eyes, And a=
glint
of coloured iris brings Such
as lies along the folded wings Of the bee before he flies.
Who, with a ruffl=
ing,
careful breath, Has ope=
ned
the wings of the wild young sprite? Has fluttered her spirit to
stumbling flight In her eyes, as a young bee stumbleth?
Love makes the bu=
rden
of her voice. The hum o=
f his
heavy, staggering wings Sets
quivering with wisdom the common thing=
s That
she says, and her words rejoice.
WHEN the wind blo=
ws
her veil And uncovers h=
er
laughter I cease, I turn pale. When the wind blows her veil From the woes I
bewail Of love and here=
after:
When the wind blows her veil I cease, I turn pale.
LETTER FROM TOWN: THE ALM=
OND
TREE
YOU promised to s=
end
me some violets. Did you forget?
Here there's an
almond tree--you have never seen Such a one in the north--it f=
lowers
on the street, and I stand=
Every day by the fence to loo=
k up
for the flowers that expand=
At
rest in the blue, and wonder at what they mean.
Under the almond
tree, the happy lands Provence, Japan, and Italy re=
pose, And passing feet are chatter =
and
clapping of those Who p=
lay
around us, country girls clapping their hands.
You, my love, the
foremost, in a flowered gown, All your unbearable tendernes=
s, you
with the laughter Startled upon your eyes now s=
o wide
with here- after, You =
with
loose hands of abandonment hanging down.
FLAT SUBURBS, S.W., IN TH=
E MORNING
THE new red houses
spring like plants In le=
vel
rows Of reddish herbage that bristles and slants Its s=
quare
shadows.
The pink young ho=
uses
show one side bright Flatly
assuming the sun, And one side shadow, half in sight, Half-=
hiding
the pavement-run;
Where hastening
creatures pass intent On th=
eir
level way, Threading like ants that can never relent And h=
ave
nothing to say.
Bare stems of
street-lamps stiffly stand At ra=
ndom,
desolate twigs, To testify to a blight on the land That =
has
stripped their sprigs.
LAST night a thief
came to me And struck a=
t me
with something dark. I cried, but no one could hear me, I lay dumb and stark.
When I awoke this
morning I could find no
trace; Perhaps 'twas a dream of warning, For I've lost my peace.
LETTER FROM TOWN: ON A GR=
EY
EVENING IN MARCH
THE clouds are
pushing in grey reluctance slowly northward t=
o you,
While north of them all, at the farthest ends, stands one
bright-bosomed, aglance With fire as it guards the wild north cloud-coasts,=
red-fire se=
as
running through The rocks where ravens flying to windward melt as a well-s=
hot
lance.
You should be out=
by
the orchard, where violets secretly da=
rken
the earth, Or there in the woods of the twilight, with northern
wind-flowers shaken astir. Think of me here in the library, trying and tryi=
ng a song that=
is
worth Tears and swords to my heart, arrows no armour will turn or
deter.
You tell me the l=
ambs
have come, they lie like daisies whi=
te in
the grass Of the dark-green hills; new calves in shed; peewits turn
after the plough-- It is well for you. For me the navvies work in the road where =
I pass
And I want to smite in anger the barren rock of each waterl=
ess
brow.
Like the sough of=
a
wind that is caught up high in the mesh of=
the
budding trees, A sudden car goes sweeping past, and I strain my soul to hea=
r The
voice of the furtive triumphant engine as it rushes past=
like
a breeze, To hear on its mocking triumphance unwitting the after-e=
cho of
fear.
SUBURBS ON A HAZY DAY
O STIFFLY shapen
houses that change not, What
conjuror's cloth was thrown across you, and raised =
To
show you thus transfigured, changed, Your stuff all gone, your men=
ace
almost rased?
Such resolute sha=
pes,
so harshly set In hollow
blocks and cubes deformed, and heaped In void and null profusion, how is th=
is? In what strong aqua regia now=
are
you steeped?
That you lose the
brick-stuff out of you =
And
hover like a presentment, fading faint And vanquished, evaporate away To leave but only the merest
possible taint!
HYDE PARK AT NIGHT, BEFOR=
E THE
WAR
Clerks.
WE have shut the
doors behind us, and the velvet flowers of night =
Lean
about us scattering their pollen grains of golden light.
Now at last we li=
ft
our faces, and our faces come aflower To the ni=
ght
that takes us willing, liberates us to the hour.
Now at last the i=
nk
and dudgeon passes from our fervent eyes And =
out of
the chambered weariness wanders a spirit abroad on =
its
enterprise.
Not too near and not t=
oo far
Out of the =
stress
of the crowd Music screams as
elephants scream When they lift th=
eir
trunks and scream aloud For joy of the ni=
ght
when masters are =
Asleep
and adream.
So here I hide in the
Shalimar With a wanton princess
slender and proud, And we swoon with
kisses, swoon till we seem Two streaming pea=
cocks
gone in a cloud Of golden dust, w=
ith
star after star =
On
our stream.
I, THE man with t=
he
red scarf, Will g=
ive
thee what I have, this last week's earn- =
ings.
Take them, and buy thee a silver ring And wed me, to ease my
yearnings.
For the rest, when
thou art wedded I=
'll
wet my brow for thee With sweat, I'll enter a house for thy sake, Thou shalt shut doors o=
n me.
How gorgeous that
shock of red lilies, and larkspur cleaving All with=
a
flash of blue!--when will she be leaving Her room, where the night still ha=
ngs
like a half- folded bat, And p=
assion
unbearable seethes in the darkness, like must in a vat.
You, if you were
sensible, When I tell you the stars flash signals, each one dreadful, You would not=
turn
and answer me "The night is wonderful."
Even you, if you =
knew
How this darkness soaks me through and through, and infuses Unholy fear=
in my
vapour, you would pause to dis- tinguish What hurts, fr=
om
what amuses.
For I tell you Be=
neath
this powerful tree, my whole soul's fluid Oozes away from me as a sacrifice
steam At the knife of a Druid.
Again I tell you,=
I
bleed, I am bound with withies, My life runs out. I tell you my blood runs =
out
on the floor of this oak, Gout upon gout.
Above me springs =
the
blood-born mistletoe In the shady smoke. But who are you, twittering to and=
fro
Beneath the oak?
What thing better=
are
you, what worse? What have you to do with the mysteries Of this ancient pla=
ce,
of my ancient curse? What place have you in my histories?
THE cuckoo and the
coo-dove's ceaseless calling, =
Calling,
Of a meaningless monotony is palling All my morning's pleasure in the
sun-fleck-scattered wood. May-b=
lossom
and blue bird's-eye flowers falling, =
Falling
In a litter through the elm-tree shade are scrawling Messages of true-love =
down
the dust of the high- road. I do =
not
like to hear the gentle grieving, =
Grieving
Of the she-dove in the blossom, still believing Love will yet again return =
to
her and make all good.
When I know that
there must ever be deceiving, =
Deceiving
Of the mournful constant heart, that while she's weaving Her=
woes,
her lover woos and sings within another wood.
Oh, boisterous the
cuckoo shouts, forestalling, =
Stalling
A progress down the intricate enthralling By-paths where the wanton-headed
flowers doff their hood.=
And like a laught=
er
leads me onward, heaving, =
Heaving
A sigh among the shadows, thus retrieving A decent short regret for that wh=
ich
once was very good.
MANY roses in the
wind Are tapping at the window-sash. A hawk is in the sky; his wings Slowly
begin to plash.
The roses with the
west wind rapping Are torn away, and a splash Of red goes down the billowing
air.
Still hangs the h=
awk,
with the whole sky moving Past him--only a wing-beat proving The will that
holds him there.
The daisies in the
grass are bending, The hawk has dropped, the wind is spending All the roses,
and unending Rustle of leaves washes out the rending Cry of a bird.
A red rose goes on
the wind.--Ascending The hawk his wind-swept way is wending Easily down the
sky. The daisies, sending Strange white signals, seem intending To show the
place whence the scream was heard.
But, oh, my heart,
what birds are piping! A silver wind is hastily wiping The face of the youn=
gest
rose.
And oh, my heart,
cease apprehending! The hawk is gone, a rose is tapping The window-sash as =
the
west-wind blows.
Knock, knock, 'ti=
s no
more than a red rose rapping, And fear is a plash of wings. What, then, if a
scarlet rose goes flapping Down the bright-grey ruin of things!
PARLIAMENT HILL IN THE EV=
ENING
THE houses fade i=
n a
melt of mist Blotching =
the
thick, soiled air With reddish places that still resist The Night's slow care.
The hopeless, win=
try
twilight fades, The city
corrodes out of sight As the body corrodes when death invades That citadel of delight.
Now verdigris
smoulderings softly spread Through the shroud of the tow=
n, as
slow Night-lights hither and thither shed Their ghastly glow.
Street-Walkers.
WHEN into the nig=
ht
the yellow light is roused like dust above the towns, O=
r like
a mist the moon has kissed from off a pool in the midst of the downs,=
Our faces flower =
for
a little hour pale and uncertain along the street, Daisi=
es
that waken all mistaken white-spread in ex- pectancy to meet
The luminous mist
which the poor things wist was dawn arriving across th=
e sky,
When dawn is far behind the star the dust-lit town has driven so high.
All the birds are=
folded
in a silent ball of sleep, All the flowers are fad=
ed
from the asphalt isle in the s=
ea, Only
we hard-faced creatures go round and round, and k=
eep The shores of this inne=
rmost
ocean alive and illus=
ory.
Wanton sparrows t=
hat
twittered when morning looke=
d in
at their eyes And=
the
Cyprian's pavement-roses are gone, and now i=
t is
we Flowers of illusion who shine in our gauds, make a Parad=
ise On the shores of this
ceaseless ocean, gay birds of the
town-dark sea.
SAD as he sits on=
the
white sea-stone And the suave sea chuckles, and turns to the moon, And the =
moon
significant smiles at the cliffs and the boulders. He sits l=
ike a
shade by the flood alone While I dance a tarantella on the rocks, and the <=
span
style=3D'mso-spacerun:yes'> croon Of my mockery moc=
ks at
him over the waves' bright shoulders.
What can I do but
dance alone, Dance to the sliding sea and the moon, For the moon on my brea=
st
and the air on my limbs and the foam on my feet=
? For
surely this earnest man has none Of the night in his soul, and none of the =
tune
Of the waters within him; only the world's old wisdom to bleat.
I wish a wild
sea-fellow would come down the glittering shingle, A
soulless neckar, with winking seas in his eyes And falling waves in his arm=
s,
and the lost soul's kiss On his lips: I long to be soulless, I tingle To to=
uch
the sea in the last surprise Of fiery coldness, to be gone in a lost soul's
bliss.
IN the choir the =
boys
are singing the hymn. =
The
morning light on their lips Moves in silver-moist flashes, in musical trim.=
Sudden outside the
high window, one crow =
Hangs
in the air And lights on a withered oak-tree's top of woe.
One bird, one blo=
t,
folded and still at the top =
Of
the withered tree!--in the grail Of crystal heaven falls one full black dro=
p.
Like a soft full =
drop
of darkness it seems to sway =
In
the tender wine Of our Sabbath, suffusing our sacred day.
Softly, in the du=
sk,
a woman is singing to me; Taking me back down the vista of years, till I se=
e A
child sitting under the piano, in the boom of the tingling strings =
And
pressing the small, poised feet of a mother who smiles as she sin=
gs.
In spite of mysel=
f,
the insidious mastery of song Betrays me back, till the heart of me weeps to
belong To the old Sunday evenings at home, with winter outside And hymns=
in
the cosy parlour, the tinkling piano our guide.
So now it is vain=
for
the singer to burst into clamour With the great black piano appassionato. T=
he glamour Of childi=
sh
days is upon me, my manhood is cast Down in the flood of remembrance, I weep
like a chil=
d for
the past.
EMBANKMENT AT NIGHT, BEFO=
RE
THE WAR
Charity.
BY the river In t=
he
black wet night as the furtive rain slinks down, Dropping and starting from sl=
eep Alone
on a seat A woman crouches.
I must go back to
her.
I want to give he=
r Some
money. Her hand slips out of the breast of her gown Asleep. =
My
fingers creep Carefully over the sweet Thumb-mound, into the palm's deep
pouches.
So, the gift!
God, how she star=
ts! And
looks at me, and looks in the palm of her hand! And again at me! I turn and=
run
Down the Embankment, run for my life.
But why?--why?
Because of my hea=
rt's
Beating like sobs, I come to myself, and stand In the street spilled over
splendidly With wet, flat lights. What I've done I know not, my soul is in
strife.
The touch was on =
the
quick. I want to forget.
RIGID sleeps the
house in darkness, I alone Like a thing unwarrantable cross the hall And cl=
imb
the stairs to find the group of doors Standing angel-stern and tall.
I want my own roo=
m's
shelter. But what is this Throng of startled beings suddenly thrown In
confusion against my entry? Is it only the trees' Large shadows from the ou=
tside
street lamp blown?
Phantom to phantom
leaning; strange women weep Aloud, suddenly on my mind Startling a fear
unspeakable, as the shuddering wind Breaks and sobs in the blind.
So like to women,
tall strange women weeping! Why continually do they cross the bed? Why does=
my
soul contract with unnatural fear? I am listening! Is anything said?
Ever the long bla=
ck
figures swoop by the bed; They seem to be beckoning, rushing away, and beckoning. Whither
then, whither, what is it, say What is the reckoning.
Tall black Baccha=
e of
midnight, why then, why Do you rush to assail me? Do I intrude on your rites
nocturnal? What should it avail me?
Is there some gre=
at
Iacchos of these slopes Suburban dismal? Have I profaned some female myster=
y,
orgies Black and phantasmal?
How have I wander=
ed
here to this vaulted room In the house of life?--the floor was ruffled with
gold Last evening, and she who was softly in bloom, Glimmered as flowers th=
at
in perfume at twilight unfold
For the flush of =
the
night; whereas now the gloom Of every dirty, must-besprinkled mould, And da=
mp
old web of misery's heirloom Deadens this day's grey-dropping arras-fold.
And what is this =
that
floats on the undermist Of the mirror towards the dusty grate, as if feelin=
g Unsightly
its way to the warmth?--this thing with a list To the lef=
t?
this ghost like a candle swealing?
Pale-blurred, with
two round black drops, as if it missed Itself amo=
ng
everything else, here hungrily stealing Upon me!--my own reflection!--expli=
cit
gist Of my presence there in the mirror that leans from the ceiling!
Then will somebody
square this shade with the being I know I wa=
s last
night, when my soul rang clear as a bell And happy as rain in summer? Why
should it be so? What
is there gone against me, why am I in hell?
DARKNESS comes ou=
t of
the earth And swallows =
dip
into the pallor of the west; From the hay comes the clamour of children's <=
span
style=3D'mso-spacerun:yes'> mirth; Wane=
s the
old palimpsest.
The night-stock o=
ozes
scent, And a moon-blue =
moth
goes flittering by: All that the worldly day has meant Wastes like a lie.
The children have
forsaken their play; A =
single
star in a veil of light Glimmers: litter of day Is gone from sight.
EMBANKMENT AT NIGHT, BEFO=
RE
THE WAR
Outcasts.
THE night rain,
dripping unseen, Comes endlessly kissing my face and my hands.
The river, slippi=
ng
between Lamps, is rayed with golden bands Half way down its heaving sides; =
Revealed
where it hides.
Under the bridge =
Great
electric cars Sing through, and each with a floor-light racing along at its side=
. Far
off, oh, midge after midge Drifts over the gulf that bars The night with
silence, crossing the lamp-touched tide.
At Charing Cross, here, beneath the bridge Sleep in a row the outcasts, Packed in a line with their heads against the wall. Their feet, in a broken ridge Stretch out on = the way, and a lout casts A look as he stands on the edge of this naked stall.<= o:p>
Beasts that sleep
will cover Their faces in their flank; so these Have huddled rags or limbs =
on
the naked sleep. Save, as the tram-cars hover Past with the noise of a bree=
ze And
gleam as of sunshine crossing the low black heap,
Two naked faces a=
re
seen Bare and asleep, Two pale clots swept and swept by the light of the cars. Foam-clots
showing between The long, low tidal-heap, The mud-weed opening two pale,
shadowless stars.
Over the pallor of
only two faces Passes the gallivant beam of the trams; Shows in only two sad
places The white bare bone of our shams.
A little, bearded
man, pale, peaked in sleeping, With a face like a chickweed flower. And a h=
eavy
woman, sleeping still keeping Callous and dour.
Over the pallor of
only two places Tossed on the low, black, ruffled heap Passes the light of =
the
tram as it races Out of the deep.
Eloquent limbs In
disarray Sleep-suave limbs of a youth with long, smooth thighs Hutched up=
for
warmth; the muddy rims Of trousers fray On the thin bare shins of a man who
uneasily lies.
The balls of five=
red
toes As red and dirty, bare Young birds forsaken and left in a nest of mud-=
- Newspaper
sheets enclose Some limbs like parcels, and tear When the sleeper stirs or
turns on the ebb of the flood--
One heaped mound =
Of a
woman's knees As she thrusts them upward under the ruffled skirt-- And a
curious dearth of sound In the presence of these Wastrels that sleep on the
flagstones without any hurt.
Over two shadowle=
ss,
shameless faces Stark on the heap Travels the light as it tilts in its pace=
s Gone
in one leap.
At the feet of the
sleepers, watching, Stand those that wait For a place to lie down; and stil=
l as
they stand, they
sleep, Wearily catching The flood's slow gait Like men who are drowned, but
float erect in the deep.
Oh, the singing
mansions, Golden-lighted tall Trams that pass, blown ruddily down the night=
! The
bridge on its stanchions Stoops like a pall To this human blight.
On the outer
pavement, slowly, Theatre people pass, Holding aloft their umbrellas that f=
lash
and are bri=
ght Like
flowers of infernal moly Over nocturnal grass Wetly bobbing and drifting aw=
ay
on our sight.
And still by the
rotten Row of shattered feet, Outcasts keep guard. Forgotten, Forgetting, t=
ill
fate shall delete One from the ward.
The factories on =
the
Surrey side Are beautifully laid in black on a gold-grey sky. The river's
invisible tide Threads and thrills like ore that is wealth to the eye.
And great gold mi=
dges
Cross the chasm At the bridges Above intertwined plasm.
WINTER IN THE BOULEVARD=
span>
THE frost has set=
tled
down upon the trees And ruthlessly strangled off the fantasies Of leaves th=
at
have gone unnoticed, swept like old Romantic stories now no more to be told=
.
The trees down the
boulevard stand naked in thought, Their ab=
undant
summery wordage silenced, caught In the grim undertow; naked the trees conf=
ront
Implacable winter's long, cross-questioning brunt.
Has some hand
balanced more leaves in the depths of the twigs? Som=
e dim
little efforts placed in the threads of the birch?-- It is on=
ly the
sparrows, like dead black leaves on the sprigs, Sitti=
ng
huddled against the cerulean, one flesh with their perch.
The clear, cold s=
ky
coldly bethinks itself. Like vivid thought the air spins bright, and all Tr=
ees,
birds, and earth, arrested in the after-thought Awaiting the sentence out f=
rom
the welkin brought.
SCHOOL ON THE OUTSKIRTS
How different, in=
the
middle of snows, the great school rise=
s red!
A red rock silent and
shadowless, clung round with cluste=
rs of
shouting lads, Some few dark-cleaving the doorway, souls that cling as the
souls of the dead In st=
upor
persist at the gates of life, obstinate dark monads=
.
This new red rock=
in
a waste of white rises against the day
WAVING slowly bef=
ore
me, pushed into the dark, Unseen my hands explore the silence, drawing the =
bark Of my body s=
lowly
behind.
Nothing to meet my
fingers but the fleece of night Invisible blinding my face and my eyes! Wha=
t if
in their fl=
ight My
hands should touch the door!
What if I suddenly
stumble, and push the door Open, and a great grey dawn swirls over my feet,=
before I can draw=
back!
What if unwitting=
I
set the door of eternity wide And am swept away in the horrible dawn, am go=
ne down the tide Of
eternal hereafter!
Catch my hands, my
darling, between your breasts. Take them away from their venture, before fa=
te wrests The meanin=
g out
of them. EVERLASTING FLOWERS
WHO do you think
stands watching The sno=
w-tops
shining rosy In heaven, now that the darkness Takes all but the tallest pos=
y?
Who then sees the
two-winged Boat down th=
ere,
all alone And asleep on the snow's last shadow, Like a moth on a stone?
The olive-leaves,
light as gad-flies, Hav=
e all
gone dark, gone black. And now in the dark my soul to you Turns back.
To you, my little
darling, To you, out of
Italy. For what is loveliness, my love, Save you have it with me!
So, there's an ox=
en
wagon Comes darkly into
sight: A man with a lantern, swinging A little light.
What does he see,=
my
darling Here by the dar=
kened
lake? Here, in the sloping shadow The mountains make?
He says not a wor=
d,
but passes, Staring at =
what
he sees. What ghost of us both do you think he saw Under the olive trees?
All the things th=
at
are lovely-- The things=
you
never knew-- I wanted to gather them one by one And bring them to you.
But never now, my
darling Can I gather the
mountain-tips From the twilight like half-shut lilies To hold to your lips.
And never the
two-winged vessel That =
sleeps
below on the lake Can I catch like a moth between my hands For you to take.
But hush, I am not
regretting: It is far m=
ore
perfect now. I'll whisper the ghostly truth to the world And tell them how
I know you here in
the darkness, How you s=
it in
the throne of my eyes At peace, and look out of the windows In glad surprise.
IN another countr=
y,
black poplars shake them- selves over a pon=
d, And
rooks and the rising smoke-waves scatter and wheel from the wo=
rks
beyond; The air is dark with north and with sulphur, the grass is a darker
green, And people darkly invested with purple move palpable through the sc=
ene.
Soundlessly down
across the counties, out of the resonant gloom Th=
at
wraps the north in stupor and purple travels the deep, slow bo=
om Of
the man-life north-imprisoned, shut in the hum of the purpled st=
eel As
it spins to sleep on its motion, drugged dense in the sleep of the =
wheel.
Out of the sleep,
from the gloom of motion, sound- lessly, somnambul=
e Moans
and booms the soul of a people imprisoned, asleep in the rul=
e Of
the strong machine that runs mesmeric, booming the spell of its =
word Upon
them and moving them helpless, mechanic, their will to its=
will
deferred.
Yet all the while
comes the droning inaudible, out of the violet air=
, The
moaning of sleep-bound beings in travail that toil and are will=
-less
there In the spell-bound north, convulsive now with a dream near mornin=
g,
strong With violent achings heaving to burst the sleep that is now not l=
ong.
I
AH, stern, cold m=
an, How
can you lie so relentless hard While I wash you with weeping water! Do you =
set
your face against the daughter Of life? Can you never discard Your curt pri=
de's
ban?
You masquerader! =
How can
you shame to act this part Of unswerving indifference to me? You want at la=
st,
ah me! To break my heart Evader!
You know your mou=
th Was
always sooner to soften Even than your eyes. Now shut it lies Relentless,
however often I kiss it in drouth.
It has no breath =
Nor
any relaxing. Where, Where are you, what have you done? What is this mouth =
of
stone? How did you dare Take cover in death!
II
Once you could se=
e, The
white moon show like a breast revealed By the slipping shawl of stars. Could
see the small stars tremble As the heart beneath did wield Systole, diastol=
e.
All the lovely
macrocosm Was woman once to you, Bride to your groom. No tree in bloom But =
it
leaned you a new White bosom.
And always and ev=
er Soft
as a summering tree Unfolds from the sky, for your good, Unfolded womanhood=
; Shedding
you down as a tree Sheds its flowers on a river.
I saw your brows =
Set
like rocks beside a sea of gloom, And I shed my very soul down into your thought; Like flowers I=
fell,
to be caught On the comforted pool, like bloom That leaves the boughs.
III
Oh, masquerader, =
With
a hard face white-enamelled, What are you now? Do you care no longer how My
heart is trammelled, Evader?
Is this you, after
all, Metallic, obdurate With bowels of steel? Did you never feel?-- Cold,
insensate, Mechanical!
Ah, no!--you
multiform, You that I loved, you wonderful, You who darkened and shone, You
were many men in one; But never this null This never-warm!
Is this the sum of
you? Is it all nought? Cold, metal-cold? Are you all told Here, iron-wrough=
t? Is
this what's become of you?
SINCE this is the
last night I keep you home, Come, I will consecrate you for the journey.
Rather I had you
would not go. Nay come, I will not again reproach you. Lie back And let me =
love
you a long time ere you go. For you are sullen-hearted still, and lack The =
will
to love me. But even so I will set a seal upon you from my lip, Will set a
guard of honour at each door, Seal up each channel out of which might slip =
Your
love for me.
=
I
kiss your mouth. Ah, love, Could I but seal its ruddy, shining spring Of
passion, parch it up, destroy, remove Its softly-stirring crimson welling-u=
p Of
kisses! Oh, help me, God! Here at the source I'd lie for ever drinking and
drawing in Your fountains, as heaven drinks from out their course The floods=
.
=
I close your ears with kisses And seal your nostrils; and round your
neck you'll wear-- Nay, let me
work--a delicate chain of kisses. Like beads they go around, and not one mi=
sses
To touch its fellow on either side.
=
And there Full mid-between the champaign of your breast I place a gr=
eat
and burning seal of love Like a dark rose, a mystery of rest On the slow
bubbling of your rhythmic heart.
Nay, I persist, a=
nd
very faith shall keep You integral to me. Each door, each mystic port Of eg=
ress
from you I will seal and steep In perfect chrism. =
Now
it is done. The mort Will sound in heaven before it is undone.
But let me finish
what I have begun And shirt you now invulnerable in the mail Of iron kisses,
kisses linked like steel. Put greaves upon your thighs and knees, and frail=
Webbing
of steel on your feet. So you shall feel Ensheathed invulnerable with me, w=
ith
seven Great seals upon your outgoings, and woven Chain of my mystic will
wrapped perfectly Upon you, wrapped in indomitable me.
SHE sits on the
recreation ground Under=
an
oak whose yellow buds dot the pale blue sky. T=
he
young grass twinkles in the wind, and the sound Of the wind in the knotted bu=
ds in
a canopy.
So sitting under =
the
knotted canopy Of the w=
ind,
she is lifted and carried away as in a balloon Across =
the
insensible void, till she stoops to see The sandy desert beneath her,=
the
dreary platoon.
She knows the was=
te
all dry beneath her, in one place Stirring with earth-coloured =
life,
ever turning and stirring. B=
ut
never the motion has a human face Nor sound, save intermittent
machinery whirring.
And so again, on = the recreation ground She a= lights a stranger, wondering, unused to the scene; Suff= ering at sight of the children playing around, Hurt at the chalk-coloured tu= lips, and the even- ing-green.<= o:p>
ROUND the house w=
ere
lilacs and strawberries And foal-foots
spangling the paths, And far away on the sand-hills, dewberries Caught dust from the sea's lo=
ng
swaths.
Up the wolds the woods were walking, And= nuts fell out of their hair. At the gate the nets hung, balking The star-lit rush of a hare.<= o:p>
In the autumn fie=
lds,
the stubble Tinkled the=
music
of gleaning. At a mother's knees, the trouble Lost all its meaning.
Yea, what good
beginnings To this sad =
end! Have
we had our innings? God
forfend!
INTIME<=
span
class=3DHeading1Char>
RETURNING, I find=
her
just the same, At just the same old delicate game.
Still she says:
"Nay, loose no flame To lick me up and do me harm! Be all yourself!--f=
or
oh, the charm Of your heart of fire in which I look! Oh, better there than =
in
any book Glow and enact the dramas and dreams I love for ever!--there it se=
ems You
are lovelier than life itself, till desire Comes licking through the bars of
your lips And over my face the stray fire slips, Leaving a burn and an ugly
smart That will have the oil of illusion. Oh, heart Of fire and beauty, loo=
se
no more Your reptile flames of lust; ah, store Your passion in the basket of
your soul, Be all yourself, one bonny, burning coal That stays with steady =
joy
of its own fire. But do not seek to take me by desire. Oh, do not seek to
thrust on me your fire! For in the firing all my porcelain Of flesh does
crackle and shiver and break in pain, My ivory and marble black with stain,=
My
veil of sensitive mystery rent in twain, My altars sullied, I, bereft, rema=
in A
priestess execrable, taken in vain--"
=
&nb=
sp;So
the refrain Sings itself over, and so the game Re-starts itself wherein I am
kept Like a glowing brazier faintly blue of flame So that the delicate
love-adept Can warm her hands and invite her soul, Sprinkling incense and s=
alt
of words And kisses pale, and sipping the toll Of incense-smoke that rises =
like
birds.
Yet I've forgotte=
n in
playing this game, Things I have known that shall have no name; Forgetting =
the
place from which I came I watch her ward away the flame, Yet warm herself at
the fire--then blame Me that I flicker in the basket; Me that I glow not wi=
th
content To have my substance so subtly spent; Me that I interrupt her game.=
I
ought to be proud that she should ask it Of me to be her fire-opal--.
=
&nb=
sp;
It is well Since I am =
here
for so short a spell Not to interrupt her?--Why should I Break in by making=
any
reply!
I
INTO the shadow-w=
hite
chamber silts the white Flux of another dawn. The wind that all night Long =
has
waited restless, suddenly wafts A whirl like snow from the plum-trees and t=
he
pear, Till petals heaped between the window-shafts =
In
a drift die there.
A nurse in white,=
at
the dawning, flower-foamed pane Draws down the bli=
nds,
whose shadows scarcely stain The white rugs on=
the
floor, nor the silent bed That rides the room like a frozen berg, its crest=
Finally
ridged with the austere line of the dead =
Stretched
out at rest.
Less than a year =
the
fourfold feet had pressed The peaceful floor, when fell the sword on their
rest. Yet soon, too soon, she had him home again With wounds between them, =
and
suffering like a =
guest That
will not go. Now suddenly going, the pain =
Leaves
an empty breast.
II
A tall woman, with
her long white gown aflow As she strode her limbs amongst it, once more She
hastened towards the room. Did she know As she listened in silence outside =
the
silent door? Entering, she saw him in outline, raised on a pyre =
Awaiting
the fire.
Upraised on the b=
ed,
with feet erect as a bow, Like the prow of a boat, his head laid back like =
the stern Of a ship that st=
ands
in a shadowy sea of snow With frozen rigging, she saw him; she drooped like=
a fern Refolding, she s=
lipped
to the floor as a ghost-white peony slips =
When
the thread clips.
Soft she lay as a
shed flower fallen, nor heard The ominous entry, nor saw the other love, The
dark, the grave-eyed mistress who thus dared At such an hour to lay her cla=
im,
above A stricken wife, so sunk in oblivion, bowed =
With
misery, no more proud.
III
The stranger's ha=
ir
was shorn like a lad's dark poll And pale her ivory face: her eyes would fa=
il In
silence when she looked: for all the whole Darkness of failure was in them,
without avail. Dark in indomitable failure, she who had lost =
Now
claimed the host,
She softly passed=
the
sorrowful flower shed In blonde and white on the floor, nor even turned Her
head aside, but straight towards the bed Moved with slow feet, and her eyes'
flame steadily burned. She looked at him as =
he lay
with banded cheek, =
And
she started to speak
Softly: "I k=
new
it would come to this," she said, "I knew that some day, soon, I
should find you thus. So I did not fight you. You went your way instead Of
coming mine--and of the two of us I died the first, I, in the after-life =
Am
now your wife."
IV
"'Twas I who=
se
fingers did draw up the young Plant of your body: to me you looked e'er spr=
ung The
secret of the moon within your eyes! My mouth you met before your fine red
mouth Was set to song--and never your song denies =
My
love, till you went south."
"'Twas I who
placed the bloom of manhood on Your youthful smoothness: I fleeced where fl=
eece
was none Your fer=
vent
limbs with flickers and tendrils of new Knowledge; I set your heart to its
stronger beat; I put my strength upon you, and I threw =
My
life at your feet."
"But I whom =
the
years had reared to be your bride, Who for years was sun for your shivering,
shade for your sw=
eat, Who
for one strange year was as a bride to you--you set me aside With all t=
he
old, sweet things of our youth;--and never yet Have I ceased=
to
grieve that I was not great enough =
To
defeat your baser stuff."
V
"But you are
given back again to me Who have kept intact for you your virginity. Who for=
the
rest of life walk out of care, Indifferent here of myself, since I am gone =
Where
you are gone, and you and I out there =
Walk
now as one."
"Your widow =
am
I, and only I. I dream God bows his head and grants me this supreme Pure lo=
ok
of your last dead face, whence now is gone The mobility, the panther's
gambolling, And all your being is given to me, so none =
Can
mock my struggling."
"And now at =
last
I kiss your perfect face, Perfecting now our unfinished, first embrace. Your
young hushed look that then saw God ablaze In every bush, is given you back,
and we Are met at length to finish our rest of days =
In
a unity."
HEIMWEH=
FAR-OFF the
lily-statues stand white-ranked in the garden at home. W=
ould
God they were shattered quickly, the cattle would tread them =
out in
the loam. I wish the elder trees in flower could suddenly heave, and burst The wal=
ls of
the house, and nettles puff out from the hearth at whi=
ch I
was nursed.
It stands so stil=
l in
the hush composed of trees and inviolate peace, =
The
home of my fathers, the place that is mine, my fate and my old
increase. And now that the skies are falling, the world is spouting in fount=
ains
of dirt, I would give my soul for the homestead to fall with me, go with me, b=
oth in
one hurt.
DEBACLE=
THE trees in trou=
ble
because of autumn, And
scarlet berries falling from the bush, And all the myriad houseless seeds <=
span
style=3D'mso-spacerun:yes'> Loosing hold in the wind's
insistent push
Moan softly with
autumnal parturition, P=
oor,
obscure fruits extruded out of light Into the world of shadow, carried down=
Between the bitter knees of t=
he
after-night.
Bushed in an unco=
uth
ardour, coiled at core =
With a
knot of life that only bliss can unravel, Fall all the fruits most bitterly
into earth Bitterly into
corrosion bitterly travel.
What is it
internecine that is locked, By very fierceness into a
quiescence Within the rage? We shall not know till it burst Out of corrosion into new
florescence.
Nay, but how tort=
ured
is the frightful seed T=
he
spark intense within it, all without Mordant corrosion gnashing and champing
hard For ruin on the na=
ked
small redoubt.
Bitter, to fold t= he issue, and make no sally; To have the mystery, but not go forth; To bear, but retaliate nothing, given to save The spark in storm= s of corrosion, as seeds from the north.<= o:p>
The sharper, more
horrid the pressure, the harder the heart <=
span
style=3D'mso-spacerun:yes'> That saves the blue grain of
eternal fire Within its quick, committed to hold and wait And suffer unheeding, only
forbidden to expire.
WHERE the minnows
trace A glinting web quick hid in the gloom of the brook, When I think of t=
he
place And remember the small lad lying intent to look Through the shadowy f=
ace At
the little fish thread-threading the watery nook--
It seems to me The
woman you are should be nixie, there is a pool Where we ought to be. You
undine-clear and pearly, soullessly cool And waterly The pool for my limbs =
to fathom,
my soul's last school.
Narcissus Venture=
d so
long ago in the deeps of reflection. Illyssus Broke the bounds and beyond!-=
-Dim
recollection Of fishes Soundlessly moving in heaven's other direction!
Be Undine towards=
the
waters, moving back; For me A pool! Put off the soul you've got, oh lack Yo=
ur
human self immortal; take the watery track.
THE sun sets out =
the
autumn crocuses And fil=
ls
them up a pouring measure Of
death-producing wine, till treasure Runs waste down their chalices.
All, all Persepho=
ne's
pale cups of mould Are =
on the
board, are over-filled; The
portion to the gods is spilled; Now, mortals all, take hold!
The time is now, =
the
wine-cup full and full =
Of
lambent heaven, a pledging-cup; Let now all mortal men take u=
p The
drink, and a long, strong pull.
Out of the
hell-queen's cup, the heaven's pale wine-- Drink then, invisible heroes,
drink. Lips to the vess=
els,
never shrink, Throats to the heavens incline.
And take within t=
he
wine the god's great oath By
heaven and earth and hellish stream To break this sick and nauseo=
us
dream We writhe and lust in, both.
Swear, in the pale
wine poured from the cups of the queen
Of hell, to wake and be=
free From this nightmare we writhe=
in, Break
out of this foul has-been.
ON that day I shall put rose=
s on
roses, and cover your grave With multitude of white roses: and since you we=
re brave=
One bright red ray.
So people, passing under The
ash-trees of the valley-road, will raise Their eyes and look at the grave on
the hill, in wonde=
r, Wondering mount, and pu=
t the
flowers asunder
To see whose praise Is blazo=
ned
here so white and so bloodily red. Then they will say: "'Tis long since
she is dead, Who =
has
remembered her after many days?"
And standing there They will
consider how you went your ways Unnoticed among them, a still queen lost in=
the
maze Of this earthly affair.=
A queen, they'll say, Has sl=
ept
unnoticed on a forgotten hill. Sleeps on unknown, unnoticed there, until Dawns my insurgent day.=