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D. H. Lawrence

D. H. Lawrence

Thief in the Night

Last night a thief came to me
And struck at 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.

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Other works by D. H. Lawrence...
Lui et Elle

She is large and matronly And rather dirty, A little sardonic—looking, as if d… Though what she does, except lay f… And put up with her husband,
Letter from Town: on a Grey Evening in March

THE clouds are pushing in grey re… While north of them all, at the fa… With fire as it guards the wild no… The rocks where ravens flying to w… You should be out by the orchard,…
In Trouble and Shame

I look at the swaling sunset And wish I could go also Through the red doors beyond the b… I wish that I could go Through the red doors where I cou…
 1
Wedding Morn

The morning breaks like a pomegran… In a shining crack of red, Ah, when tomorrow the dawn comes l… Whitening across the bed, It will find me watching at the ma…
Belief

Forever nameless Forever unknwon Forever unconceived Forever unrepresented yet forever felt in the soul.
 2
Dreams

All people dream, but not equally. Those who dream by night in the du… Wake in the morning to find that i… But the dreamers of the day are da… For they dream their dreams with o…
Suburbs on a Hazy Day

O STIFFLY shapen houses that c… What conjuror’s cloth was thrown a… and raised To show you thus transfigured, cha… Your stuff all gone, your menace a…
Nonentity

The stars that open and shut Fall on my shallow breast Like stars on a pool. The soft wind, blowing cool Laps little crest after crest
Epilogue

Patience, little Heart. One day a heavy, June—hot woman Will enter and shut the door to st… And when your stifling heart would… Cool, lonely night, her roused bre…
Butterfly

Butterfly, the wind blows sea—ward… strong beyond the garden—wall! Butterfly, why do you settle on my shoe, and sip the dirt on my shoe, Lifting your veined wings, lifting…
 1
Sorrow

Why does the thin grey strand Floating up from the forgotten Cigarette between my fingers, Why does it trouble me? Ah, you will understand;
 2
Thought

Thought, I love thought. But not the juggling and twisting… I despise that self—important game… Thought is the welling up of unkno… Thought is the testing of statemen…
 2
The Revolutionary

Look at them standing there in aut… The pale—faces, As if it could have any effect any… Pale—face authority, Caryatids,
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Liaison

A big bud of moon hangs out of the… Star—spiders spinning their thread Hang high suspended, withouten res… Watching us overhead. Come then under the trees, where t…
Service of all the Dead

Between the avenues of cypresses, All in their scarlet cloaks, and s… Of linen, go the chaunting chorist… The priests in gold and black, the… And all along the path to the ceme…



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