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diff --git a/old/54058-8.txt b/old/54058-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index cc28b15..0000000 --- a/old/54058-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,2222 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Love Poems and Others, by D. H. Lawrence - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Love Poems and Others - -Author: D. H. Lawrence - -Release Date: January 27, 2017 [EBook #54058] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LOVE POEMS AND OTHERS *** - - - - -Produced by Mary Glenn Krause, Eric Lehtonen, David Wilson -and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at -http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images -generously made available by The Internet Archive) - - - - - - - - - -LOVE POEMS AND OTHERS - - - - - LOVE · POEMS - AND · OTHERS - - BY · D. H. LAWRENCE - AUTHOR OF "THE WHITE PEACOCK" "THE TRESPASSER" - - - DUCKWORTH · AND · CO. - COVENT · GARDEN · LONDON - MCMXIII - - - - - _Several of these Poems have - appeared in the "English - Review," the "Nation," and - the "Westminster Gazette."_ - - - - -CONTENTS - - -LOVE POEMS:-- - PAGE - Wedding Morn i. - Kisses in the Train iii. - Cruelty and Love v. - Cherry Robbers viii. - Lilies in the Fire ix. - Coldness in Love xi. - End of another Home-Holiday xiii. - Reminder xvi. - Bei Hennef xviii. - Lightning xix. - Song-Day in Autumn xxi. - Aware xxiii. - A Pang of Reminiscence xxiv. - A White Blossom xxv. - Red Moon-Rise xxvi. - Return xxviii. - The Appeal xxix. - Repulsed xxx. - Dream-Confused xxxii. - Corot xxxiii. - Morning Work xxxv. - Transformations xxxvi. - Renascence xxxviii. - Dog-Tired xl. - Michael-Angelo xli. - - -DIALECT POEMS:-- - - Violets xlii. - Whether or Not xliv. - A Collier's Wife liii. - The Drained Cup lvi. - - -THE SCHOOLMASTER:-- - - I. A Snowy Day in School lix. - II. The Best of School lx. - III. Afternoon in School lxiii. - - - - -WEDDING MORN - - -The morning breaks like a pomegranate - In a shining crack of red, -Ah, when to-morrow the dawn comes late - Whitening across the bed, -It will find me watching at the marriage gate - And waiting while light is shed -On him who is sleeping satiate, - With a sunk, abandoned head. - -And when the dawn comes creeping in, - Cautiously I shall raise -Myself to watch the morning win - My first of days, -As it shows him sleeping a sleep he got - Of me, as under my gaze, -He grows distinct, and I see his hot - Face freed of the wavering blaze. - -Then I shall know which image of God - My man is made toward, -And I shall know my bitter rod - Or my rich reward. -And I shall know the stamp and worth - Of the coin I've accepted as mine, -Shall see an image of heaven or of earth - On his minted metal shine. - -Yea and I long to see him sleep - In my power utterly, -I long to know what I have to keep, - I long to see -My love, that spinning coin, laid still - And plain at the side of me, -For me to count--for I know he will - Greatly enrichen me. - -And then he will be mine, he will lie - In my power utterly, -Opening his value plain to my eye - He will sleep of me. -He will lie negligent, resign - His all to me, and I -Shall watch the dawn light up for me - This sleeping wealth of mine. - -And I shall watch the wan light shine - On his sleep that is filled of me, -On his brow where the wisps of fond hair twine - So truthfully, -On his lips where the light breaths come and go - Naïve and winsomely, -On his limbs that I shall weep to know - Lie under my mastery. - - - - -KISSES IN THE TRAIN - - -I saw the midlands - Revolve through her hair; -The fields of autumn - Stretching bare, -And sheep on the pasture - Tossed back in a scare. - -And still as ever - The world went round, -My mouth on her pulsing - Neck was found, -And my breast to her beating - Breast was bound. - -But my heart at the centre - Of all, in a swound -Was still as a pivot, - As all the ground -On its prowling orbit - Shifted round. - -And still in my nostrils - The scent of her flesh, -And still my wet mouth - Sought her afresh; -And still one pulse - Through the world did thresh. - -And the world all whirling - Around in joy -Like the dance of a dervish - Did destroy -My sense--and my reason - Spun like a toy. - -But firm at the centre - My heart was found; -Her own to my perfect - Heart-beat bound, -Like a magnet's keeper - Closing the round. - - - - -CRUELTY AND LOVE - - -What large, dark hands are those at the window -Lifted, grasping the golden light -Which weaves its way through the creeper leaves - To my heart's delight? - -Ah, only the leaves! But in the west, -In the west I see a redness come -Over the evening's burning breast-- - --'Tis the wound of love goes home! - - The woodbine creeps abroad - Calling low to her lover: - The sun-lit flirt who all the day - Has poised above her lips in play - And stolen kisses, shallow and gay - Of pollen, now has gone away - --She woos the moth with her sweet, low word, - And when above her his broad wings hover - Then her bright breast she will uncover - And yield her honey-drop to her lover. - - Into the yellow, evening glow - Saunters a man from the farm below, - Leans, and looks in at the low-built shed - Where hangs the swallow's marriage bed. - The bird lies warm against the wall. - She glances quick her startled eyes - Towards him, then she turns away - Her small head, making warm display - Of red upon the throat. His terrors sway - Her out of the nest's warm, busy ball, - Whose plaintive cry is heard as she flies - In one blue stoop from out the sties - Into the evening's empty hall. - -Oh, water-hen, beside the rushes -Hide your quaint, unfading blushes, -Still your quick tail, and lie as dead, -Till the distance folds over his ominous tread. - -The rabbit presses back her ears, -Turns back her liquid, anguished eyes -And crouches low: then with wild spring -Spurts from the terror of _his_ oncoming -To be choked back, the wire ring -Her frantic effort throttling: - Piteous brown ball of quivering fears! - -Ah soon in his large, hard hands she dies, -And swings all loose to the swing of his walk. -Yet calm and kindly are his eyes -And ready to open in brown surprise -Should I not answer to his talk -Or should he my tears surmise. - -I hear his hand on the latch, and rise from my chair -Watching the door open: he flashes bare -His strong teeth in a smile, and flashes his eyes -In a smile like triumph upon me; then careless-wise -He flings the rabbit soft on the table board -And comes towards me: ah, the uplifted sword -Of his hand against my bosom, and oh, the broad -Blade of his hand that raise my face to applaud -His coming: he raises up my face to him -And caresses my mouth with his fingers, which still smell grim -Of the rabbit's fur! God, I am caught in a snare! -I know not what fine wire is round my throat, -I only know I let him finger there -My pulse of life, letting him nose like a stoat -Who sniffs with joy before he drinks the blood: -And down his mouth comes to my mouth, and down -His dark bright eyes descend like a fiery hood -Upon my mind: his mouth meets mine, and a flood -Of sweet fire sweeps across me, so I drown -Within him, die, and find death good. - - - - -CHERRY ROBBERS - - -Under the long, dark boughs, like jewels red - In the hair of an Eastern girl -Shine strings of crimson cherries, as if had bled - Blood-drops beneath each curl. - -Under the glistening cherries, with folded wings - Three dead birds lie: -Pale-breasted throstles and a blackbird, robberlings - Stained with red dye. - -Under the haystack a girl stands laughing at me, - With cherries hung round her ears-- -Offering me her scarlet fruit: I will see - If she has any tears. - - - - -LILIES IN THE FIRE - - -I - -Ah, you stack of white lilies, all white and gold, -I am adrift as a sunbeam, and without form -Or having, save I light on you to warm -Your pallor into radiance, flush your cold - -White beauty into incandescence: you -Are not a stack of white lilies to-night, but a white -And clustered star transfigured by me to-night, -And lighting these ruddy leaves like a star dropped through - -The slender bare arms of the branches, your tire-maidens -Who lift swart arms to fend me off; but I come -Like a wind of fire upon you, like to some -Stray whitebeam who on you his fire unladens. - -And you are a glistening toadstool shining here -Among the crumpled beech-leaves phosphorescent, -My stack of white lilies burning incandescent -Of me, a soft white star among the leaves, my dear. - - -II - -Is it with pain, my dear, that you shudder so? -Is it because I have hurt you with pain, my dear? - - Did I shiver?--Nay, truly I did not know-- - A dewdrop may-be splashed on my face down here. - -Why even now you speak through close-shut teeth. -I have been too much for you--Ah, I remember! - - The ground is a little chilly underneath - The leaves--and, dear, you consume me all to an ember. - -You hold yourself all hard as if my kisses -Hurt as I gave them--you put me away-- - - Ah never I put you away: yet each kiss hisses - Hot as a drop of fire wastes me away. - - -III - -I am ashamed, you wanted me not to-night-- -Nay, it is always so, you sigh with me. -Your radiance dims when I draw too near, and my free -Fire enters your petals like death, you wilt dead white. - -Ah, I do know, and I am deep ashamed; -You love me while I hover tenderly -Like clinging sunbeams kissing you: but see -When I close in fire upon you, and you are flamed - -With the swiftest fire of my love, you are destroyed. -'Tis a degradation deep to me, that my best -Soul's whitest lightning which should bright attest -God stepping down to earth in one white stride, - -Means only to you a clogged, numb burden of flesh -Heavy to bear, even heavy to uprear -Again from earth, like lilies wilted and sere -Flagged on the floor, that before stood up so fresh. - - - - -COLDNESS IN LOVE - - -And you remember, in the afternoon -The sea and the sky went grey, as if there had sunk -A flocculent dust on the floor of the world: the festoon -Of the sky sagged dusty as spider cloth, -And coldness clogged the sea, till it ceased to croon. - -A dank, sickening scent came up from the grime -Of weed that blackened the shore, so that I recoiled -Feeling the raw cold dun me: and all the time -You leapt about on the slippery rocks, and threw -The words that rang with a brassy, shallow chime. - -And all day long that raw and ancient cold -Deadened me through, till the grey downs darkened to sleep. -Then I longed for you with your mantle of love to fold -Me over, and drive from out of my body the deep -Cold that had sunk to my soul, and there kept hold. - -But still to me all evening long you were cold, -And I was numb with a bitter, deathly ache; -Till old days drew me back into their fold, -And dim sheep crowded me warm with companionship, -And old ghosts clustered me close, and sleep was cajoled. - -I slept till dawn at the window blew in like dust, -Like the linty, raw-cold dust disturbed from the floor -Of a disused room: a grey pale light like must -That settled upon my face and hands till it seemed -To flourish there, as pale mould blooms on a crust. - -Then I rose in fear, needing you fearfully, -For I thought you were warm as a sudden jet of blood. -I thought I could plunge in your spurting hotness, and be -Clean of the cold and the must.--With my hand on the latch -I heard you in your sleep speak strangely to me. - -And I dared not enter, feeling suddenly dismayed. -So I went and washed my deadened flesh in the sea -And came back tingling clean, but worn and frayed -With cold, like the shell of the moon: and strange it seems -That my love has dawned in rose again, like the love of a maid. - - - - -END OF ANOTHER HOME-HOLIDAY - - -I - -When shall I see the half moon sink again -Behind the black sycamore at the end of the garden? -When will the scent of the dim, white phlox -Creep up the wall to me, and in at my open window? - -Why is it, the long slow stroke of the midnight bell, - (Will it never finish the twelve?) -Falls again and again on my heart with a heavy reproach? - -The moon-mist is over the village, out of the mist speaks the bell, -And all the little roofs of the village bow low, pitiful, beseeching, -resigned: - Oh, little home, what is it I have not done well? - -Ah home, suddenly I love you, -As I hear the sharp clean trot of a pony down the road, -Succeeding sharp little sounds dropping into the silence, -Clear upon the long-drawn hoarseness of a train across the valley. - -The light has gone out from under my mother's door. - That she should love me so, - She, so lonely, greying now, - And I leaving her, - Bent on my pursuits! - - Love is the great Asker, - The sun and the rain do not ask the secret - - Of the time when the grain struggles down in the dark. - The moon walks her lonely way without anguish, - Because no loved one grieves over her departure. - - -II - -Forever, ever by my shoulder pitiful Love will linger, -Crouching as little houses crouch under the mist when I turn. -Forever, out of the mist the church lifts up her reproachful finger, -Pointing my eyes in wretched defiance where love hides her face to -mourn. - - Oh but the rain creeps down to wet the grain - That struggles alone in the dark, - And asking nothing, cheerfully steals back again! - The moon sets forth o' nights - To walk the lonely, dusky heights - Serenely, with steps unswerving; - Pursued by no sigh of bereavement, - No tears of love unnerving - Her constant tread: - While ever at my side, - Frail and sad, with grey bowed head, - The beggar-woman, the yearning-eyed - Inexorable love goes lagging. - -The wild young heifer, glancing distraught, -With a strange new knocking of life at her side - Runs seeking a loneliness. -The little grain draws down the earth to hide. -Nay, even the slumberous egg, as it labours under the shell, - Patiently to divide, and self-divide, -Asks to be hidden, and wishes nothing to tell. - -But when I draw the scanty cloak of silence over my eyes, -Piteous Love comes peering under the hood. -Touches the clasp with trembling fingers, and tries -To put her ear to the painful sob of my blood, -While her tears soak through to my breast, - Where they burn and cauterise. - - -III - - The moon lies back and reddens. - In the valley, a corncrake calls - Monotonously, - With a piteous, unalterable plaint, that deadens - My confident activity: - With a hoarse, insistent request that falls - Unweariedly, unweariedly, - Asking something more of me, - Yet more of me! - - - - -REMINDER - - - Do you remember -How night after night swept level and low -Overhead, at home, and had not one star, -Nor one narrow gate for the moon to go - Forth to her field of November. - - And you remember, -How towards the north a red blot on the sky -Burns like a blotch of anxiety -Over the forges, and small flames ply - Like ghosts the shadow of the ember. - - Those were the days -When it was awful autumn to me, -When only there glowed on the dark of the sky -The red reflection of her agony, - My beloved smelting down in the blaze - - Of death--my dearest -Love who had borne, and was now leaving me. -And I at the foot of her cross did suffer - My own gethsemane. - - So I came to you, -And twice, after great kisses, I saw -The rim of the moon divinely rise -And strive to detach herself from the raw - Blackened edge of the skies. - - Strive to escape; -With her whiteness revealing my sunken world -Tall and loftily shadowed. But the moon -Never magnolia-like unfurled - Her white, her lamp-like shape. - - For you told me no, -And bade me not to ask for the dour -Communion, offering--"a better thing." -So I lay on your breast for an obscure hour - Feeling your fingers go - - Like a rhythmic breeze -Over my hair, and tracing my brows, -Till I knew you not from a little wind: ---I wonder now if God allows - Us only one moment his keys. - - If only then -You could have unlocked the moon on the night, -And I baptized myself in the light -Of your love; we both have entered then the white - Pure passion, and never again. - - I wonder if only -You had taken me then, how different -Life would have been: should I have spent -Myself in waste, and you have bent - Your pride, through being lonely? - - - - -BEI HENNEF - - -The little river twittering in the twilight, -The wan, wondering look of the pale sky, - This is almost bliss. - -And everything shut up and gone to sleep, -All the troubles and anxieties and pain - Gone under the twilight. - -Only the twilight now, and the soft "Sh!" of the river - That will last for ever. - -And at last I know my love for you is here, -I can see it all, it is whole like the twilight, -It is large, so large, I could not see it before -Because of the little lights and flickers and interruptions, - Troubles, anxieties and pains. - - You are the call and I am the answer, - You are the wish, and I the fulfilment, - You are the night, and I the day. - What else--it is perfect enough, - It is perfectly complete, - You and I, - What more----? -Strange, how we suffer in spite of this! - - - - -LIGHTNING - - -I felt the lurch and halt of her heart - Next my breast, where my own heart was beating; -And I laughed to feel it plunge and bound, -And strange in my blood-swept ears was the sound - Of the words I kept repeating, -Repeating with tightened arms, and the hot blood's blindfold art. - -Her breath flew warm against my neck, - Warm as a flame in the close night air; -And the sense of her clinging flesh was sweet -Where her arms and my neck's blood-surge could meet. - Holding her thus, did I care -That the black night hid her from me, blotted out every speck? - -I leaned me forward to find her lips, - And claim her utterly in a kiss, -When the lightning flew across her face, -And I saw her for the flaring space - Of a second, afraid of the clips -Of my arms, inert with dread, wilted in fear of my kiss. - -A moment, like a wavering spark, - Her face lay there before my breast, -Pale love lost in a snow of fear, -And guarded by a glittering tear, - And lips apart with dumb cries; -A moment, and she was taken again in the merciful dark. - -I heard the thunder, and felt the rain, - And my arms fell loose, and I was dumb. -Almost I hated her, she was so good, -Hated myself, and the place, and my blood, - Which burned with rage, as I bade her come -Home, away home, ere the lightning floated forth again. - - - - -SONG-DAY IN AUTUMN - - -When the autumn roses - Are heavy with dew, -Before the mist discloses - The leaf's brown hue, -You would, among the laughing hills - Of yesterday -Walk innocent in the daffodils, -Coiffing up your auburn hair -In a puritan fillet, a chaste white snare -To catch and keep me with you there - So far away. - -When from the autumn roses - Trickles the dew, -When the blue mist uncloses - And the sun looks through, -You from those startled hills - Come away, -Out of the withering daffodils; -Thoughtful, and half afraid, -Plaiting a heavy, auburn braid -And coiling it round the wise brows of a maid - Who was scared in her play. - -When in the autumn roses - Creeps a bee, -And a trembling flower encloses - His ecstasy, -You from your lonely walk - Turn away, -And leaning to me like a flower on its stalk, -Wait among the beeches -For your late bee who beseeches -To creep through your loosened hair till he reaches, - Your heart of dismay. - - - - -AWARE - - -Slowly the moon is rising out of the ruddy haze, -Divesting herself of her golden shift, and so -Emerging white and exquisite; and I in amaze -See in the sky before me, a woman I did not know -I loved, but there she goes and her beauty hurts my heart; -I follow her down the night, begging her not to depart. - - - - -A PANG OF REMINISCENCE - - -High and smaller goes the moon, she is small and very far from me, -Wistful and candid, watching me wistfully, and I see -Trembling blue in her pallor a tear that surely I have seen before, -A tear which I had hoped that even hell held not again in store. - - - - -A WHITE BLOSSOM - - -A tiny moon as white and small as a single jasmine flower -Leans all alone above my window, on night's wintry bower, -Liquid as lime-tree blossom, soft as brilliant water or rain -She shines, the one white love of my youth, which all sin cannot stain. - - - - -RED MOON-RISE - - -The train in running across the weald has fallen into a steadier stroke -So even, it beats like silence, and sky and earth in one unbroke -Embrace of darkness lie around, and crushed between them all the loose -And littered lettering of leaves and hills and houses closed, and we -can use -The open book of landscape no more, for the covers of darkness have -shut upon -Its written pages, and sky and earth and all between are closed in one. - -And we are smothered between the darkness, we close our eyes and say -"Hush!" we try -To escape in sleep the terror of this immense deep darkness, and we lie -Wrapped up for sleep. And then, dear God, from out of the twofold -darkness, red -As if from the womb the moon arises, as if the twin-walled darkness -had bled -In one great spasm of birth and given us this new, red moon-rise -Which lies on the knees of the darkness bloody, and makes us hide our -eyes. - -The train beats frantic in haste, and struggles away -From this ruddy terror of birth that has slid down -From out of the loins of night to flame our way -With fear; but God, I am glad, so glad that I drown -My terror with joy of confirmation, for now -Lies God all red before me, and I am glad, -As the Magi were when they saw the rosy brow -Of the Infant bless their constant folly which had -Brought them thither to God: for now I know -That the Womb is a great red passion whence rises all -The shapeliness that decks us here-below: -Yea like the fire that boils within this ball -Of earth, and quickens all herself with flowers, -God burns within the stiffened clay of us; -And every flash of thought that we and ours -Send up to heaven, and every movement, does -Fly like a spark from this God-fire of passion; -And pain of birth, and joy of the begetting, -And sweat of labour, and the meanest fashion -Of fretting or of gladness, but the jetting -Of a trail of the great fire against the sky -Where we can see it, a jet from the innermost fire: -And even in the watery shells that lie -Alive within the cozy under-mire, -A grain of this same fire I can descry. - -And then within the screaming birds that fly -Across the lightning when the storm leaps higher; -And then the swirling, flaming folk that try -To come like fire-flames at their fierce desire, -They are as earth's dread, spurting flames that ply -Awhile and gush forth death and then expire. -And though it be love's wet blue eyes that cry -To hot love to relinquish its desire, -Still in their depths I see the same red spark -As rose to-night upon us from the dark. - - - - -RETURN - - -Now I am come again, you who have so desired -My coming, why do you look away from me? -Why does your cheek burn against me--have I inspired -Such anger as sets your mouth unwontedly? - -Ah, here I sit while you break the music beneath -Your bow; for broken it is, and hurting to hear: -Cease then from music--does anguish of absence bequeath -Me only aloofness when I would draw near? - - - - -THE APPEAL - - -You, Helen, who see the stars -As mistletoe berries burning in a black tree, -You surely, seeing I am a bowl of kisses, -Should put your mouth to mine and drink of me. - -Helen, you let my kisses steam -Wasteful into the night's black nostrils; drink -Me up I pray; oh you who are Night's Bacchante, -How can you from my bowl of kisses shrink! - - - - -REPULSED - - -The last, silk-floating thought has gone from the dandelion stem, -And the flesh of the stalk holds up for nothing a blank diadem. - -The night's flood-winds have lifted my last desire from me, -And my hollow flesh stands up in the night abandonedly. - -As I stand on this hill, with the whitening cave of the city beyond, -Helen, I am despoiled of my pride, and my soul turns fond: - -Overhead the nightly heavens like an open, immense eye, -Like a cat's distended pupil sparkles with sudden stars, -As with thoughts that flash and crackle in uncouth malignancy -They glitter at me, and I fear the fierce snapping of night's -thought-stars. - -Beyond me, up the darkness, goes the gush of the lights of two towns, -As the breath which rushes upwards from the nostrils of an immense -Life crouched across the globe, ready, if need be, to pounce -Across the space upon heaven's high hostile eminence. - -All round me, but far away, the night's twin consciousness roars -With sounds that endlessly swell and sink like the storm of thought -in the brain, -Lifting and falling like slow breaths taken, pulsing like oars -Immense that beat the blood of the night down its vein. - -The night is immense and awful, Helen, and I am insect small -In the fur of this hill, clung on to the fur of shaggy, black heather. -A palpitant speck in the fur of the night, and afraid of all, -Seeing the world and the sky like creatures hostile together. - -And I in the fur of the world, and you a pale fleck from the sky, -How we hate each other to-night, hate, you and I, -As the world of activity hates the dream that goes on on high, -As a man hates the dreaming woman he loves, but who will not reply. - - - - -DREAM-CONFUSED - - - Is that the moon -At the window so big and red? -No one in the room, -No one near the bed----? - - Listen, her shoon -Palpitating down the stair? ---Or a beat of wings at the window there? - - A moment ago -She kissed me warm on the mouth, -The very moon in the south -Is warm with a bloody glow, -The moon from far abysses -Signalling those two kisses. - - And now the moon -Goes slowly out of the west, -And slowly back in my breast -My kisses are sinking, soon - To leave me at rest. - - - - -COROT - - -The trees rise tall and taller, lifted -On a subtle rush of cool grey flame -That issuing out of the dawn has sifted - The spirit from each leaf's frame. - -For the trailing, leisurely rapture of life -Drifts dimly forward, easily hidden -By bright leaves uttered aloud, and strife - Of shapes in the grey mist chidden. - -The grey, phosphorescent, pellucid advance -Of the luminous purpose of God, shines out -Where the lofty trees athwart stream chance - To shake flakes of its shadow about. - -The subtle, steady rush of the whole -Grey foam-mist of advancing God, -As He silently sweeps to His somewhere, his goal, - Is heard in the grass of the sod. - -Is heard in the windless whisper of leaves -In the silent labours of men in the fields, -In the downward dropping of flimsy sheaves - Of cloud the rain skies yield. - -In the tapping haste of a fallen leaf, -In the flapping of red-roof smoke, and the small -Foot-stepping tap of men beneath - These trees so huge and tall. - -For what can all sharp-rimmed substance but catch -In a backward ripple, God's purpose, reveal -For a moment His mighty direction, snatch - A spark beneath His wheel. - -Since God sweeps onward dim and vast, -Creating the channelled vein of Man -And Leaf for His passage, His shadow is cast - On all for us to scan. - -Ah listen, for Silence is not lonely: -Imitate the magnificent trees -That speak no word of their rapture, but only - Breathe largely the luminous breeze. - - - - -MORNING WORK - - -A gang of labourers on the piled wet timber -That shines blood-red beside the railway siding -Seem to be making out of the blue of the morning -Something faery and fine, the shuttles sliding, - -The red-gold spools of their hands and faces shuttling -Hither and thither across the morn's crystalline frame -Of blue: trolls at the cave of ringing cerulean mining, -And laughing with work, living their work like a game. - - - - -TRANSFORMATIONS - - -I - -=The Town= - -Oh you stiff shapes, swift transformation seethes -About you: only last night you were -A Sodom smouldering in the dense, soiled air; -To-day a thicket of sunshine with blue smoke-wreaths. - -To-morrow swimming in evening's vague, dim vapour -Like a weeded city in shadow under the sea, -Beneath an ocean of shimmering light you will be: -Then a group of toadstools waiting the moon's white taper. - -And when I awake in the morning, after rain, -To find the new houses a cluster of lilies glittering -In scarlet, alive with the birds' bright twittering, -I'll say your bond of ugliness is vain. - - -II - -=The Earth= - -Oh Earth, you spinning clod of earth, -And then you lamp, you lemon-coloured beauty; -Oh Earth, you rotten apple rolling downward, -Then brilliant Earth, from the burr of night in beauty -As a jewel-brown horse-chestnut newly issued:-- -You are all these, and strange, it is my duty -To take you all, sordid or radiant tissued. - - -III - -=Men= - -Oh labourers, oh shuttles across the blue frame of morning, -You feet of the rainbow balancing the sky! -Oh you who flash your arms like rockets to heaven, -Who in lassitude lean as yachts on the sea-wind lie! -You who in crowds are rhododendrons in blossom, -Who stand alone in pride like lighted lamps; -Who grappling down with work or hate or passion, -Take strange lithe form of a beast that sweats and ramps: -You who are twisted in grief like crumpled beech-leaves, -Who curl in sleep like kittens, who kiss as a swarm -Of clustered, vibrating bees; who fall to earth -At last like a bean-pod: what are you, oh multiform? - - - - -RENASCENCE - - -We have bit no forbidden apple, - Eve and I, -Yet the splashes of day and night -Falling round us no longer dapple -The same Eden with purple and white. - -This is our own still valley - Our Eden, our home, -But day shows it vivid with feeling -And the pallor of night does not tally -With dark sleep that once covered its ceiling. - -My little red heifer, to-night I looked in her eyes, - --She will calve to-morrow: -Last night when I went with the lantern, the sow was grabbing her -litter -With red, snarling jaws: and I heard the cries -Of the new-born, and after that, the old owl, then the bats that -flitter. - -And I woke to the sound of the wood-pigeons, and lay and listened, - Till I could borrow -A few quick beats of a wood-pigeon's heart, and when I did rise -The morning sun on the shaken iris glistened, -And I saw that home, this valley, was wider than Paradise. - -I learned it all from my Eve - This warm, dumb wisdom. -She's a finer instructress than years; -She has taught my heart-strings to weave -Through the web of all laughter and tears. - -And now I see the valley - Fleshed all like me -With feelings that change and quiver: -And all things seem to tally - With something in me, -Something of which she's the giver. - - - - -DOG-TIRED - - -If she would come to me here, - Now the sunken swaths - Are glittering paths -To the sun, and the swallows cut clear -Into the low sun--if she came to me here! - -If she would come to me now, -Before the last mown harebells are dead, -While that vetch clump yet burns red; -Before all the bats have dropped from the bough -Into the cool of night--if she came to me now! - -The horses are untackled, the chattering machine -Is still at last. If she would come, -I would gather up the warm hay from -The hill-brow, and lie in her lap till the green -Sky ceased to quiver, and lost its tired sheen. - -I should like to drop -On the hay, with my head on her knee -And lie stone still, while she -Breathed quiet above me--we could stop -Till the stars came out to see. - -I should like to lie still -As if I was dead--but feeling -Her hand go stealing -Over my face and my hair until -This ache was shed. - - - - -MICHAEL-ANGELO - - -God shook thy roundness in His finger's cup, -He sunk His hands in firmness down thy sides, -And drew the circle of His grasp, O Man, -Along thy limbs delighted, thine, His bride's. - -And so thou wert God-shapen: His finger -Curved thy mouth for thee, and His strong shoulder -Planted thee upright: art not proud to see -In the curve of thine exquisite form the joy of the Moulder? - -He took a handful of light and rolled a ball, -Compressed it till its beam grew wondrous dark, -Then gave thee thy dark eyes, O Man, that all -He made had doorway to thee through that spark. - -God, lonely, put down His mouth in a kiss of creation, -He kissed thee, O Man, in a passion of love, and left -The vivid life of His love in thy mouth and thy nostrils; -Keep then the kiss from the adultress' theft. - - - - -VIOLETS - - -Sister, tha knows while we was on the planks - Aside o' th' grave, while th' coffin wor lyin' yet -On th' yaller clay, an' th' white flowers top of it - Tryin' to keep off 'n him a bit o' th' wet, - -An' parson makin' haste, an' a' the black - Huddlin' close together a cause o' th' rain, -Did t' 'appen ter notice a bit of a lass away back - By a head-stun, sobbin' an' sobbin' again? - - --How should I be lookin' round - An' me standin' on the plank - Beside the open ground, - Where our Ted 'ud soon be sank? - - Yi, an' 'im that young, - Snapped sudden out of all - His wickedness, among - Pals worse n'r ony name as you could call. - -Let be that; there's some o' th' bad as we - Like better nor all your good, an' 'e was one. ---An' cos I liked him best, yi, bett'r nor thee, - I canna bide to think where he is gone. - -Ah know tha liked 'im bett'r nor me. But let - Me tell thee about this lass. When you had gone -Ah stopped behind on t' pad i' th' drippin wet - An' watched what 'er 'ad on. - -Tha should ha' seed her slive up when we'd gone, - Tha should ha' seed her kneel an' look in -At th' sloppy wet grave--an' 'er little neck shone - That white, an' 'er shook that much, I'd like to begin - -Scraïghtin' my-sen as well. 'En undid her black - Jacket at th' bosom, an' took from out of it -Over a double 'andful of violets, all in a pack - Ravelled blue and white--warm, for a bit - -O' th' smell come waftin' to me. 'Er put 'er face - Right intil 'em and scraïghted out again, -Then after a bit 'er dropped 'em down that place, - An' I come away, because o' the teemin' rain. - - - - -WHETHER OR NOT - - -I - -Dunna thee tell me its his'n, mother, - Dunna thee, dunna thee. ---Oh ay! he'll be comin' to tell thee his-sèn - Wench, wunna he? - -Tha doesna mean to say to me, mother, - He's gone wi that-- ---My gel, owt'll do for a man i' the dark, - Tha's got it flat. - -But 'er's old, mother, 'er's twenty year - Older nor him-- ---Ay, an' yaller as a crowflower, an' yet i' the dark - Er'd do for Tim. - -Tha niver believes it, mother, does ter? - It's somebody's lies. ---Ax him thy-sèn wench--a widder's lodger; - It's no surprise. - - -II - -A widow of forty-five -With a bitter, swarthy skin, -To ha' 'ticed a lad o' twenty-five -An' 'im to have been took in! - -A widow of forty-five -As has sludged like a horse all her life, -Till 'er's tough as whit-leather, to slive -Atween a lad an' 'is wife! - -A widow of forty-five. -A tough old otchel wi' long -Witch teeth, an' 'er black hawk-eyes as I've -Mistrusted all along! - -An' me as 'as kep my-sen -Shut like a daisy bud, -Clean an' new an' nice, so's when -He wed he'd ha'e summat good! - -An' 'im as nice an' fresh -As any man i' the force, -To ha'e gone an' given his white young flesh -To a woman that coarse! - - -III - -You're stout to brave this snow, Miss Stainwright, - Are you makin' Brinsley way? ---I'm off up th' line to Underwood - Wi' a dress as is wanted to-day. - -Oh are you goin' to Underwood? - 'Appen then you've 'eered? ---What's that as 'appen I've 'eered-on, Missis, - Speak up, you nedna be feared. - -Why, your young man an' Widow Naylor, - Her as he lodges wi', -They say he's got her wi' childt; but there, - It's nothing to do wi' me. - -Though if it's true they'll turn him out - O' th' p'lice force, without fail; -An' if it's not true, I'd back my life - They'll listen to _her_ tale. - -Well, I'm believin' no tale, Missis, - I'm seein' for my-sen; -An' when I know for sure, Missis, - I'll talk _then_. - - -IV - -Nay robin red-breast, tha nedna - Sit noddin' thy head at me; -My breast's as red as thine, I reckon, - Flayed red, if tha could but see. - -Nay, you blessed pee-whips, - You nedna screet at me! -I'm screetin' my-sen, but are-na goin' - To let iv'rybody see. - -Tha _art_ smock-ravelled, bunny, - Larropin' neck an' crop -I' th' snow: but I's warrant thee, bunny, - _I'm_ further ower th' top. - - -V - -Now sithee theer at th' railroad crossin' -Warmin' his-sen at the stool o' fire -Under the tank as fills the ingines, -If there isn't my dearly-beloved liar! - -My constable wi' 'is buttoned breast -As stout as the truth, my sirs!--An' 'is face -As bold as a robin! It's much he cares -For this nice old shame and disgrace. - -Oh but he drops his flag when 'e sees me, -Yes, an' 'is face goes white ... oh yes -Tha can stare at me wi' thy fierce blue eyes, -But tha doesna stare me out, I guess! - - -VI - -Whativer brings thee out so far - In a' this depth o' snow? ---I'm takin' 'ome a weddin' dress - If tha maun know. - -Why, is there a weddin' at Underwood, - As tha ne'd trudge up here? ---It's Widow Naylor's weddin'-dress, - An' 'er's wantin it, I hear. - -_'Er_ doesna want no weddin-dress ... - What--but what dost mean? ---Doesn't ter know what I mean, Tim?--Yi, - Tha must' a' been hard to wean! - -Tha'rt a good-un at suckin-in yet, Timmy; - But tell me, isn't it true -As 'er'll be wantin' _my_ weddin' dress - In a week or two? - -Tha's no occasions ter ha'e me on - Lizzie--what's done is done! ---_Done_, I should think so--Done! But might - I ask when tha begun? - -It's thee as 'as done it as much as me, - Lizzie, I tell thee that. ---"Me gotten a childt to thy landlady--!" - Tha's gotten thy answer pat, - -As tha allers hast--but let me tell thee - Hasna ter sent me whoam, when I -Was a'most burstin' mad o' my-sen - An' walkin' in agony; - -After thy kisses, Lizzie, after - Tha's lain right up to me Lizzie, an' melted -Into me, melted into me, Lizzie, - Till I was verily swelted. - -An' if my landlady seed me like it, - An' if 'er clawkin', tiger's eyes -Went through me just as the light went out - Is it any cause for surprise? - -No cause for surprise at all, my lad, - After lickin' and snuffin' at me, tha could -Turn thy mouth on a woman like her-- - Did ter find her good? - -Ay, I did, but afterwards - I should like to ha' killed her! ---Afterwards!--an' after how long - Wor it tha'd liked to 'a killed her? - -Say no more, Liz, dunna thee, - I might lose my-sen. ---I'll only say good-bye to thee, Timothy, - An' gi'e her thee back again. - -I'll ta'e thy word 'Good-bye,' Liz, - But I shonna marry her, -I shonna for nobody.--It is - Very nice on you, Sir. - -The childt maun ta'e its luck, it maun, - An' she maun ta'e _her_ luck, -For I tell ye I shonna marry her-- - What her's got, her took. - -That's spoken like a man, Timmy, - That's spoken like a man ... -"He up an' fired off his pistol - An' then away he ran." - -I damn well shanna marry 'er, - So chew at it no more, -Or I'll chuck the flamin' lot of you-- - --You nedn't have swore. - - -VII - -That's his collar round the candle-stick -An' that's the dark blue tie I bought 'im, -An' these is the woman's kids he's so fond on, -An' 'ere comes the cat that caught 'im. - -I dunno where his eyes was--a gret -Round-shouldered hag! My sirs, to think -Of him stoopin' to her! You'd wonder he could -Throw hisself in that sink. - -I expect you know who I am, Mrs Naylor! - --Who yer are?--yis, you're Lizzie Stainwright. -'An 'appen you might guess what I've come for? - --'Appen I mightn't, 'appen I might. - -You knowed as I was courtin' Tim Merfin. - --Yis, I knowed 'e wor courtin' thee. -An' yet you've been carryin' on wi' him. - --Ay, an' 'im wi' me. - -Well, now you've got to pay for it, - --An' if I han, what's that to thee? -For 'e isn't goin' to marry you. - --Is it a toss-up 'twixt thee an' me? - -It's no toss-up 'twixt thee an' me. - --Then what art colleyfoglin' for? -I'm not havin' your orts an' slarts. - --Which on us said you wor? - -I want you to know 'e's non _marryin'_ you. - --Tha wants 'im thy-sen too bad. -Though I'll see as 'e pays you, an' comes to the scratch. - --Tha'rt for doin' a lot wi' th' lad. - - -VIII - -To think I should ha'e to haffle an' caffle - Wi' a woman, an' pay 'er a price -For lettin' me marry the lad as I thought - To marry wi' cabs an' rice. - -But we'll go unbeknown to the registrar, - An' give _'er_ what money there is, -For I won't be beholden to such as her - For anythink of his. - - -IX - -Take off thy duty stripes, Tim, - An' come wi' me in here, -Ta'e off thy p'lice-man's helmet - An' look me clear. - -I wish tha hadna done it, Tim, - I do, an' that I do! -For whenever I look thee i' th' face, I s'll see - Her face too. - -I wish tha could wesh 'er off'n thee, - For I used to think that thy -Face was the finest thing that iver - Met my eye.... - - -X - -Twenty pound o' thy own tha hast, and fifty pound ha'e I, -Thine shall go to pay the woman, an' wi' my bit we'll buy -All as we shall want for furniture when tha leaves this place, -An' we'll be married at th' registrar--now lift thy face. - -Lift thy face an' look at me, man, up an' look at me: -Sorry I am for this business, an' sorry if I ha'e driven thee -To such a thing: but it's a poor tale, that I'm bound to say, -Before I can ta'e thee I've got a widow of forty-five to pay. - -Dunnat thee think but what I love thee--I love thee well, -But 'deed an' I wish as this tale o' thine wor niver my tale to tell; -Deed an' I wish as I could stood at the altar wi' thee an' been proud -o' thee, -That I could ha' been first woman to thee, as thou'rt first man to me. - -But we maun ma'e the best on't--I'll rear thy childt if 'er'll yield -it to me, -An' then wi' that twenty pound we gi'e 'er I s'd think 'er wunna be -So very much worser off than 'er wor before--An' now look up -An' answer me--for I've said my say, an' there's no more sorrow to sup. - -Yi, tha'rt a man, tha'rt a fine big man, but niver a baby had eyes -As sulky an' ormin' as thine. Hast owt to say otherwise -From what I've arranged wi' thee? Eh man, what a stubborn jackass thou -art, -Kiss me then--there!--ne'er mind if I scraight--I wor fond o' thee, -Sweetheart. - - - - -A COLLIER'S WIFE - - -Somebody's knocking at the door - Mother, come down and see. ---I's think it's nobbut a beggar, - Say, I'm busy. - -Its not a beggar, mother,--hark - How hard he knocks ... ---Eh, tha'rt a mard-'arsed kid, - 'E'll gi'e thee socks! - -Shout an' ax what 'e wants, - I canna come down. ---'E says "Is it Arthur Holliday's?" - Say "Yes," tha clown. - -'E says, "Tell your mother as 'er mester's - Got hurt i' th' pit." -What--oh my sirs, 'e never says that, - That's niver it. - -Come out o' the way an' let me see, - Eh, there's no peace! -An' stop thy scraightin', childt, - Do shut thy face. - -"Your mester's 'ad an accident, - An' they're ta'ein 'im i' th' ambulance -To Nottingham,"--Eh dear o' me - If 'e's not a man for mischance! - -Wheers he hurt this time, lad? - --I dunna know, -They on'y towd me it wor bad-- - It would be so! - -Eh, what a man!--an' that cobbly road, - They'll jolt him a'most to death, -I'm sure he's in for some trouble - Nigh every time he takes breath. - -Out o' my way, childt--dear o' me, wheer - Have I put his clean stockings and shirt; -Goodness knows if they'll be able - To take off his pit dirt. - -An' what a moan he'll make--there niver - Was such a man for a fuss -If anything ailed him--at any rate - _I_ shan't have him to nuss. - -I do hope it's not very bad! - Eh, what a shame it seems -As some should ha'e hardly a smite o' trouble - An' others has reams. - -It's a shame as 'e should be knocked about - Like this, I'm sure it is! -He's had twenty accidents, if he's had one; - Owt bad, an' it's his. - -There's one thing, we'll have peace for a bit, - Thank Heaven for a peaceful house; -An' there's compensation, sin' it's accident, - An' club money--I nedn't grouse. - -An' a fork an' a spoon he'll want, an' what else; - I s'll never catch that train-- -What a trapse it is if a man gets hurt-- - I s'd think he'll get right again. - - - - -THE DRAINED CUP - - -The snow is witherin' off'n th' gress - Love, should I tell thee summat? -The snow is witherin' off'n th' gress -An' a thick mist sucks at the clots o' snow, -An' the moon above in a weddin' dress -Goes fogged an' slow-- - Love, should I tell thee summat? - -Tha's been snowed up i' this cottage wi' me, - Nay, I'm tellin' thee summat.-- -Tha's bin snowed up i' this cottage wi' me -While th' clocks has a' run down an' stopped -An' the short days withering silently -Unbeknown have dropped. - --Yea, but I'm tellin' thee summat. - -How many days dost think has gone?-- - Now I'm tellin' thee summat. -How many days dost think has gone? -How many days has the candle-light shone -On us as tha got more white an' wan? ---Seven days, or none-- - Am I not tellin' thee summat? - -Tha come to bid farewell to me-- - Tha'rt frit o' summat. -To kiss me and shed a tear wi' me, -Then off and away wi' the weddin' ring -For the girl who was grander, and better than me -For marrying-- - Tha'rt frit o' summat? - -I durstna kiss thee tha trembles so, - Tha'rt frit o' summat. -Tha arena very flig to go, -'Appen the mist from the thawin' snow -Daunts thee--it isna for love, I know, -That tha'rt loath to go. - --Dear o' me, say summat. - -Maun tha cling to the wa' as tha goes, - So bad as that? -Tha'lt niver get into thy weddin' clothes -At that rate--eh, theer goes thy hat; -Ne'er mind, good-bye lad, now I lose -My joy, God knows, - --An' worse nor that. - -The road goes under the apple tree; - Look, for I'm showin' thee summat. -An' if it worn't for the mist, tha'd see -The great black wood on all sides o' thee -Wi' the little pads going cunningly -To ravel thee. - So listen, I'm tellin' thee summat. - -When tha comes to the beechen avenue, - I'm warnin' thee o' summat. -Mind tha shall keep inwards, a few -Steps to the right, for the gravel pits -Are steep an' deep wi' watter, an' you -Are scarce o' your wits. - Remember, I've warned the o' summat. - -An' mind when crossin' the planken bridge, - Again I warn ye o' summat. -Ye slip not on the slippery ridge -Of the thawin' snow, or it'll be -A long put-back to your gran' marridge, -I'm tellin' ye. - Nay, are ter scared o' summat? - -In kep the thick black curtains drawn, - Am I not tellin' thee summat? -Against the knockin' of sevenfold dawn, -An' red-tipped candles from morn to morn -Have dipped an' danced upon thy brawn -Till thou art worn-- - Oh, I have cost thee summat. - -Look in the mirror an' see thy-sen, - --What, I am showin' thee summat. -Wasted an' wan tha sees thy-sen, -An' thy hand that holds the mirror shakes -Till tha drops the glass and tha shudders when -Thy luck breaks. - Sure, tha'rt afraid o' summat. - -Frail thou art, my saucy man, - --Listen, I'm tellin' thee summat. -Tottering and tired thou art, my man, -Tha came to say good-bye to me, -An' tha's done it so well, that now I can -Part wi' thee. - --Master, I'm givin' thee summat. - - - - -THE SCHOOLMASTER - - -I - -=A Snowy Day in School= - -All the slow school hours, round the irregular hum of the class, -Have pressed immeasurable spaces of hoarse silence -Muffling my mind, as snow muffles the sounds that pass -Down the soiled street. We have pattered the lessons ceaselessly-- - -But the faces of the boys, in the brooding, yellow light -Have shone for me like a crowded constellation of stars, -Like full-blown flowers dimly shaking at the night, -Like floating froth on an ebbing shore in the moon. - -Out of each star, dark, strange beams that disquiet: -In the open depths of each flower, dark restless drops: -Twin bubbles, shadow-full of mystery and challenge in the foam's -whispering riot: ---How can I answer the challenge of so many eyes! - -The thick snow is crumpled on the roof, it plunges down -Awfully. Must I call back those hundred eyes?--A voice -Wakes from the hum, faltering about a noun-- -My question! My God, I must break from this hoarse silence - -That rustles beyond the stars to me.--There, -I have startled a hundred eyes, and I must look -Them an answer back. It is more than I can bear. - -The snow descends as if the dull sky shook -In flakes of shadow down; and through the gap -Between the ruddy schools sweeps one black rook. - -The rough snowball in the playground stands huge and still -With fair flakes settling down on it.--Beyond, the town -Is lost in the shadowed silence the skies distil. - -And all things are possessed by silence, and they can brood -Wrapped up in the sky's dim space of hoarse silence -Earnestly--and oh for me this class is a bitter rood. - - -II - -=The Best of School= - - The blinds are drawn because of the sun, - And the boys and the room in a colourless gloom - Of under-water float: bright ripples run - Across the walls as the blinds are blown - To let the sunlight in; and I, - As I sit on the beach of the class alone, - Watch the boys in their summer blouses, - As they write, their round heads busily bowed: - And one after another rouses - And lifts his face and looks at me, - And my eyes meet his very quietly, - Then he turns again to his work, with glee. - - With glee he turns, with a little glad - Ecstasy of work he turns from me, - An ecstasy surely sweet to be had. - And very sweet while the sunlight waves - In the fresh of the morning, it is to be - A teacher of these young boys, my slaves - Only as swallows are slaves to the eaves - They build upon, as mice are slaves - To the man who threshes and sows the sheaves. - - Oh, sweet it is - To feel the lads' looks light on me, - Then back in a swift, bright flutter to work, - As birds who are stealing turn and flee. - - Touch after touch I feel on me - As their eyes glance at me for the grain - Of rigour they taste delightedly. - - And all the class, - As tendrils reached out yearningly - Slowly rotate till they touch the tree - That they cleave unto, that they leap along - Up to their lives--so they to me. - - So do they cleave and cling to me, - So I lead them up, so do they twine - Me up, caress and clothe with free - Fine foliage of lives this life of mine; - The lowest stem of this life of mine, - The old hard stem of my life - That bears aloft towards rarer skies - My top of life, that buds on high - Amid the high wind's enterprise. - They all do clothe my ungrowing life - With a rich, a thrilled young clasp of life; - A clutch of attachment, like parenthood, - Mounts up to my heart, and I find it good. - -And I lift my head upon the troubled tangled world, and though the pain -Of living my life were doubled, I still have this to comfort and -sustain, -I have such swarming sense of lives at the base of me, such sense of -lives -Clustering upon me, reaching up, as each after the other strives -To follow my life aloft to the fine wild air of life and the storm of -thought, -And though I scarcely see the boys, or know that they are there, -distraught -As I am with living my life in earnestness, still progressively and -alone, -Though they cling, forgotten the most part, not companions, scarcely -known -To me--yet still because of the sense of their closeness clinging -densely to me, -And slowly fingering up my stem and following all tinily -The way that I have gone and now am leading, they are dear to me. - - They keep me assured, and when my soul feels lonely, - All mistrustful of thrusting its shoots where only - I alone am living, then it keeps - Me comforted to feel the warmth that creeps - Up dimly from their striving; it heartens my strife: - And when my heart is chill with loneliness, - Then comforts it the creeping tenderness - Of all the strays of life that climb my life. - - -III - -=Afternoon in School= - -THE LAST LESSON - -When will the bell ring, and end this weariness? -How long have they tugged the leash, and strained apart -My pack of unruly hounds: I cannot start -Them again on a quarry of knowledge they hate to hunt, -I can haul them and urge them no more. -No more can I endure to bear the brunt -Of the books that lie out on the desks: a full three score -Of several insults of blotted page and scrawl -Of slovenly work that they have offered me. -I am sick, and tired more than any thrall -Upon the woodstacks working weariedly. - - And shall I take -The last dear fuel and heap it on my soul -Till I rouse my will like a fire to consume -Their dross of indifference, and burn the scroll -Of their insults in punishment?--I will not! -I will not waste myself to embers for them, -Not all for them shall the fires of my life be hot, -For myself a heap of ashes of weariness, till sleep -Shall have raked the embers clear: I will keep -Some of my strength for myself, for if I should sell -It all for them, I should hate them-- - --I will sit and wait for the bell. - - - - -TURNBULL AND SPEARS, PRINTERS, EDINBURGH - - - - -Transcriber's note - -The author's representation of dialect exhibits some inconsistencies, -which have been retained as printed. - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Love Poems and Others, by D. 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