diff options
Diffstat (limited to '23394-0.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | 23394-0.txt | 3773 |
1 files changed, 3773 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/23394-0.txt b/23394-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7e5c68 --- /dev/null +++ b/23394-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3773 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook of Look! We Have Come Through!, 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 +will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before +using this eBook. + +Title: Look! We Have Come Through! + +Author: D. H. Lawrence + +Release Date: November 7, 2007 [eBook #23394] +[Most recently updated: October 28, 2023] + +Language: English + +Produced by: Lewis Jones + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LOOK! WE HAVE COME THROUGH! *** + + + + +LOOK! WE HAVE COME THROUGH! + +by + +D. H. LAWRENCE + + + + + + + +Published by Chatto & Windus +London MCMXVII + + + +Some of these poems have appeared in +the "English Review" and in "Poetry," +also in the "Georgian Anthology" and +the "Imagist Anthology" + + + +FOREWORD + +THESE poems should not be considered +separately, as so many single pieces. They +are intended as an essential story, or history, +or confession, unfolding one from the other +in organic development, the whole revealing +the intrinsic experience of a man during +the crisis of manhood, when he marries + and comes into himself. The period + covered is, roughly, the sixth lustre + of a man's life + + + +CONTENTS + + +MOONRISE +ELEGY +NONENTITY +MARTYR A LA MODE +DON JUAN +THE SEA +HYMN TO PRIAPUS +BALLAD OF A WILFUL WOMAN +FIRST MORNING +"AND OH-- + THAT THE MAN I AM MIGHT CEASE TO BE--" +SHE LOOKS BACK +ON THE BALCONY +FROHNLEICHNAM +IN THE DARK +MUTILATION +HUMILIATION +A YOUNG WIFE +GREEN +RIVER ROSES +GLOIRE DE DIJON +ROSES ON THE BREAKFAST TABLE +I AM LIKE A ROSE +ROSE OF ALL THE WORLD +A YOUTH MOWING +QUITE FORSAKEN +FORSAKEN AND FORLORN +FIREFLIES IN THE CORN +A DOE AT EVENING +SONG OF A MAN WHO IS NOT LOVED +SINNERS +MISERY +SUNDAY AFTERNOON IN ITALY +WINTER DAWN +A BAD BEGINNING +WHY DOES SHE WEEP? +GIORNO DEI MORTI +ALL SOULS +LADY WIFE +BOTH SIDES OF THE MEDAL +LOGGERHEADS +DECEMBER NIGHT +NEW YEAR'S EVE +NEW YEAR'S NIGHT +VALENTINE'S NIGHT +BIRTH NIGHT +RABBIT SNARED IN THE NIGHT +PARADISE RE-ENTERED +SPRING MORNING +WEDLOCK +HISTORY +SONG OF A MAN WHO HAS COME THROUGH +ONE WOMAN TO ALL WOMEN +PEOPLE +STREET LAMPS +"SHE SAID AS WELL TO ME" +NEW HEAVEN AND EARTH +ELYSIUM +MANIFESTO +AUTUMN RAIN +FROST FLOWERS +CRAVING FOR SPRING + + + +ARGUMENT + +_After much struggling and loss in love and in +the world of man, the protagonist throws in +his lot with a woman who is already married. +Together they go into another country, she +perforce leaving her children behind. The +conflict of love and hate goes on between the +man and the woman, and between these two +and the world around them, till it reaches +some sort of conclusion, they transcend into + some condition of blessedness_ + + + +_MOONRISE_ + +AND who has seen the moon, who has not seen +Her rise from out the chamber of the deep, +Flushed and grand and naked, as from the chamber +Of finished bridegroom, seen her rise and throw +Confession of delight upon the wave, +Littering the waves with her own superscription +Of bliss, till all her lambent beauty shakes towards + us +Spread out and known at last, and we are sure +That beauty is a thing beyond the grave, +That perfect, bright experience never falls +To nothingness, and time will dim the moon +Sooner than our full consummation here +In this odd life will tarnish or pass away. + + +_ELEGY_ + +THE sun immense and rosy +Must have sunk and become extinct +The night you closed your eyes for ever against me. + +Grey days, and wan, dree dawnings +Since then, with fritter of flowers-- +Day wearies me with its ostentation and fawnings. + +Still, you left me the nights, +The great dark glittery window, +The bubble hemming this empty existence with + lights. + +Still in the vast hollow +Like a breath in a bubble spinning +Brushing the stars, goes my soul, that skims the + bounds like a swallow! + +I can look through +The film of the bubble night, to where you are. +Through the film I can almost touch you. + + EASTWOOD + + +_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 +Of ripples across my breast. + +And dark grass under my feet +Seems to dabble in me +Like grass in a brook. + +Oh, and it is sweet +To be all these things, not to be +Any more myself. + +For look, +I am weary of myself! + + +_MARTYR À LA MODE_ + +AH God, life, law, so many names you keep, +You great, you patient Effort, and you Sleep +That does inform this various dream of living, +You sleep stretched out for ever, ever giving +Us out as dreams, you august Sleep +Coursed round by rhythmic movement of all + time, + +The constellations, your great heart, the sun +Fierily pulsing, unable to refrain; +Since you, vast, outstretched, wordless Sleep +Permit of no beyond, ah you, whose dreams +We are, and body of sleep, let it never be said +I quailed at my appointed function, turned poltroon + +For when at night, from out the full surcharge +Of a day's experience, sleep does slowly draw +The harvest, the spent action to itself; +Leaves me unburdened to begin again; +At night, I say, when I am gone in sleep, +Does my slow heart rebel, do my dead hands +Complain of what the day has had them do? + +Never let it be said I was poltroon +At this my task of living, this my dream, +This me which rises from the dark of sleep +In white flesh robed to drape another dream, +As lightning comes all white and trembling +From out the cloud of sleep, looks round about +One moment, sees, and swift its dream is over, +In one rich drip it sinks to another sleep, +And sleep thereby is one more dream enrichened. + +If so the Vast, the God, the Sleep that still grows + richer +Have said that I, this mote in the body of sleep +Must in my transiency pass all through pain, +Must be a dream of grief, must like a crude +Dull meteorite flash only into light +When tearing through the anguish of this life, +Still in full flight extinct, shall I then turn +Poltroon, and beg the silent, outspread God +To alter my one speck of doom, when round me + burns +The whole great conflagration of all life, +Lapped like a body close upon a sleep, +Hiding and covering in the eternal Sleep +Within the immense and toilsome life-time, + heaved +With ache of dreams that body forth the Sleep? + +Shall I, less than the least red grain of flesh +Within my body, cry out to the dreaming soul +That slowly labours in a vast travail, +To halt the heart, divert the streaming flow +That carries moons along, and spare the stress +That crushes me to an unseen atom of fire? + +When pain and all +And grief are but the same last wonder, Sleep +Rising to dream in me a small keen dream +Of sudden anguish, sudden over and spent-- + + CROYDON + + +_DON JUAN_ + +IT is Isis the mystery +Must be in love with me. + +Here this round ball of earth +Where all the mountains sit +Solemn in groups, +And the bright rivers flit +Round them for girth. + +Here the trees and troops +Darken the shining grass, +And many people pass +Plundered from heaven, +Many bright people pass, +Plunder from heaven. + +What of the mistresses +What the beloved seven? +--They were but witnesses, +I was just driven. + +Where is there peace for me? +Isis the mystery +Must be in love with me. + + +_THE SEA_ + +You, you are all unloving, loveless, you; +Restless and lonely, shaken by your own moods, +You are celibate and single, scorning a comrade even, +Threshing your own passions with no woman for + the threshing-floor, +Finishing your dreams for your own sake only, +Playing your great game around the world, alone, +Without playmate, or helpmate, having no one to + cherish, +No one to comfort, and refusing any comforter. + +Not like the earth, the spouse all full of increase +Moiled over with the rearing of her many-mouthed + young; +You are single, you are fruitless, phosphorescent, + cold and callous, +Naked of worship, of love or of adornment, +Scorning the panacea even of labour, +Sworn to a high and splendid purposelessness +Of brooding and delighting in the secret of life's + goings, +Sea, only you are free, sophisticated. + +You who toil not, you who spin not, +Surely but for you and your like, toiling +Were not worth while, nor spinning worth the + effort! + +You who take the moon as in a sieve, and sift +Her flake by flake and spread her meaning out; +You who roll the stars like jewels in your palm, +So that they seem to utter themselves aloud; +You who steep from out the days their colour, +Reveal the universal tint that dyes +Their web; who shadow the sun's great gestures + and expressions +So that he seems a stranger in his passing; +Who voice the dumb night fittingly; +Sea, you shadow of all things, now mock us to + death with your shadowing. + + BOURNEMOUTH + + +_HYMN TO PRIAPUS_ + +MY love lies underground +With her face upturned to mine, +And her mouth unclosed in a last long kiss +That ended her life and mine. + +I dance at the Christmas party +Under the mistletoe +Along with a ripe, slack country lass +Jostling to and fro. + +The big, soft country lass, +Like a loose sheaf of wheat +Slipped through my arms on the threshing floor +At my feet. + +The warm, soft country lass, +Sweet as an armful of wheat +At threshing-time broken, was broken +For me, and ah, it was sweet! + +Now I am going home +Fulfilled and alone, +I see the great Orion standing +Looking down. + +He's the star of my first beloved +Love-making. +The witness of all that bitter-sweet +Heart-aching. + +Now he sees this as well, +This last commission. +Nor do I get any look +Of admonition. + +He can add the reckoning up +I suppose, between now and then, +Having walked himself in the thorny, difficult +Ways of men. + +He has done as I have done +No doubt: +Remembered and forgotten +Turn and about. + +My love lies underground +With her face upturned to mine, +And her mouth unclosed in the last long kiss +That ended her life and mine. + +She fares in the stark immortal +Fields of death; +I in these goodly, frozen +Fields beneath. + +Something in me remembers +And will not forget. +The stream of my life in the darkness +Deathward set! + +And something in me has forgotten, +Has ceased to care. +Desire comes up, and contentment +Is debonair. + +I, who am worn and careful, +How much do I care? +How is it I grin then, and chuckle +Over despair? + +Grief, grief, I suppose and sufficient +Grief makes us free +To be faithless and faithful together +As we have to be. + + +_BALLAD OF A WILFUL WOMAN_ + + FIRST PART + +UPON her plodding palfrey +With a heavy child at her breast +And Joseph holding the bridle +They mount to the last hill-crest. + +Dissatisfied and weary +She sees the blade of the sea +Dividing earth and heaven +In a glitter of ecstasy. + +Sudden a dark-faced stranger +With his back to the sun, holds out +His arms; so she lights from her palfrey +And turns her round about. + +She has given the child to Joseph, +Gone down to the flashing shore; +And Joseph, shading his eyes with his hand, +Stands watching evermore. + + SECOND PART + +THE sea in the stones is singing, +A woman binds her hair +With yellow, frail sea-poppies, +That shine as her fingers stir. + +While a naked man comes swiftly +Like a spurt of white foam rent +From the crest of a falling breaker, +Over the poppies sent. + +He puts his surf-wet fingers +Over her startled eyes, +And asks if she sees the land, the land, +The land of her glad surmise. + + THIRD PART + +AGAIN in her blue, blue mantle +Riding at Joseph's side, +She says, "I went to Cythera, +And woe betide!" + +Her heart is a swinging cradle +That holds the perfect child, +But the shade on her forehead ill becomes +A mother mild. + +So on with the slow, mean journey +In the pride of humility; +Till they halt at a cliff on the edge of the land +Over a sullen sea. + +While Joseph pitches the sleep-tent +She goes far down to the shore +To where a man in a heaving boat +Waits with a lifted oar. + + FOURTH PART + +THEY dwelt in a huge, hoarse sea-cave +And looked far down the dark +Where an archway torn and glittering +Shone like a huge sea-spark. + +He said: "Do you see the spirits +Crowding the bright doorway?" +He said: "Do you hear them whispering?" +He said: "Do you catch what they say?" + + FIFTH PART + +THEN Joseph, grey with waiting, +His dark eyes full of pain, +Heard: "I have been to Patmos; +Give me the child again." + +Now on with the hopeless journey +Looking bleak ahead she rode, +And the man and the child of no more account +Than the earth the palfrey trode. + +Till a beggar spoke to Joseph, +But looked into her eyes; +So she turned, and said to her husband: +"I give, whoever denies." + + SIXTH PART + +SHE gave on the open heather +Beneath bare judgment stars, +And she dreamed of her children and Joseph, +And the isles, and her men, and her scars. + +And she woke to distil the berries +The beggar had gathered at night, +Whence he drew the curious liquors +He held in delight. + +He gave her no crown of flowers, +No child and no palfrey slow, +Only led her through harsh, hard places +Where strange winds blow. + +She follows his restless wanderings +Till night when, by the fire's red stain, +Her face is bent in the bitter steam +That comes from the flowers of pain. + +Then merciless and ruthless +He takes the flame-wild drops +To the town, and tries to sell them +With the market-crops. + +So she follows the cruel journey +That ends not anywhere, +And dreams, as she stirs the mixing-pot, +She is brewing hope from despair. + + TRIER + + +_FIRST MORNING_ + +THE night was a failure + but why not--? + +In the darkness + with the pale dawn seething at the window + through the black frame + I could not be free, + not free myself from the past, those others-- + and our love was a confusion, + there was a horror, + you recoiled away from me. + +Now, in the morning +As we sit in the sunshine on the seat by the little + shrine, +And look at the mountain-walls, +Walls of blue shadow, +And see so near at our feet in the meadow +Myriads of dandelion pappus +Bubbles ravelled in the dark green grass +Held still beneath the sunshine-- + +It is enough, you are near-- +The mountains are balanced, +The dandelion seeds stay half-submerged in the + grass; +You and I together +We hold them proud and blithe +On our love. +They stand upright on our love, +Everything starts from us, +We are the source. + + BEUERBERG + + +_"AND OH-- + THAT THE MAN I AM + MIGHT CEASE TO BE--"_ + +No, now I wish the sunshine would stop, +and the white shining houses, and the gay red + flowers on the balconies +and the bluish mountains beyond, would be crushed + out +between two valves of darkness; +the darkness falling, the darkness rising, with + muffled sound +obliterating everything. + +I wish that whatever props up the walls of light +would fall, and darkness would come hurling + heavily down, +and it would be thick black dark for ever. +Not sleep, which is grey with dreams, +nor death, which quivers with birth, +but heavy, sealing darkness, silence, all immovable. + +What is sleep? +It goes over me, like a shadow over a hill, +but it does not alter me, nor help me. +And death would ache still, I am sure; +it would be lambent, uneasy. +I wish it would be completely dark everywhere, +inside me, and out, heavily dark +utterly. + + WOLFRATSHAUSEN + + +_SHE LOOKS BACK_ + +THE pale bubbles +The lovely pale-gold bubbles of the globe-flowers +In a great swarm clotted and single +Went rolling in the dusk towards the river +To where the sunset hung its wan gold cloths; +And you stood alone, watching them go, +And that mother-love like a demon drew you + from me +Towards England. + +Along the road, after nightfall, +Along the glamorous birch-tree avenue +Across the river levels +We went in silence, and you staring to England. + +So then there shone within the jungle darkness +Of the long, lush under-grass, a glow-worm's + sudden +Green lantern of pure light, a little, intense, fusing + triumph, +White and haloed with fire-mist, down in the + tangled darkness. + +Then you put your hand in mine again, kissed me, + and we struggled to be together. +And the little electric flashes went with us, in the + grass, +Tiny lighthouses, little souls of lanterns, courage + burst into an explosion of green light +Everywhere down in the grass, where darkness was + ravelled in darkness. + +Still, the kiss was a touch of bitterness on my mouth +Like salt, burning in. +And my hand withered in your hand. +For you were straining with a wild heart, back, + back again, +Back to those children you had left behind, to all + the æons of the past. +And I was here in the under-dusk of the Isar. + +At home, we leaned in the bedroom window +Of the old Bavarian Gasthaus, +And the frogs in the pool beyond thrilled with + exuberance, +Like a boiling pot the pond crackled with happiness, +Like a rattle a child spins round for joy, the night + rattled +With the extravagance of the frogs, +And you leaned your cheek on mine, +And I suffered it, wanting to sympathise. + +At last, as you stood, your white gown falling from + your breasts, +You looked into my eyes, and said: "But this is + joy!" +I acquiesced again. +But the shadow of lying was in your eyes, +The mother in you, fierce as a murderess, glaring + to England, +Yearning towards England, towards your young + children, +Insisting upon your motherhood, devastating. + +Still, the joy was there also, you spoke truly, +The joy was not to be driven off so easily; +Stronger than fear or destructive mother-love, it + stood flickering; +The frogs helped also, whirring away. +Yet how I have learned to know that look in your + eyes +Of horrid sorrow! +How I know that glitter of salt, dry, sterile, + sharp, corrosive salt! +Not tears, but white sharp brine +Making hideous your eyes. + +I have seen it, felt it in my mouth, my throat, my + chest, my belly, +Burning of powerful salt, burning, eating through + my defenceless nakedness. +I have been thrust into white, sharp crystals, +Writhing, twisting, superpenetrated. + +Ah, Lot's Wife, Lot's Wife! +The pillar of salt, the whirling, horrible column + of salt, like a waterspout +That has enveloped me! +Snow of salt, white, burning, eating salt +In which I have writhed. + +Lot's Wife!--Not Wife, but Mother. +I have learned to curse your motherhood, +You pillar of salt accursed. +I have cursed motherhood because of you, +Accursed, base motherhood! + +I long for the time to come, when the curse against + you will have gone out of my heart. +But it has not gone yet. +Nevertheless, once, the frogs, the globe-flowers of + Bavaria, the glow-worms +Gave me sweet lymph against the salt-burns, +There is a kindness in the very rain. + +Therefore, even in the hour of my deepest, pas- + sionate malediction +I try to remember it is also well between us. +That you are with me in the end. +That you never look quite back; nine-tenths, ah, + more +You look round over your shoulder; +But never quite back. + +Nevertheless the curse against you is still in my + heart +Like a deep, deep burn. +The curse against all mothers. +All mothers who fortify themselves in motherhood, + devastating the vision. +They are accursed, and the curse is not taken off +It burns within me like a deep, old burn, +And oh, I wish it was better. + +BEUERBERG + + +_ON THE BALCONY_ + +IN front of the sombre mountains, a faint, lost + ribbon of rainbow; +And between us and it, the thunder; +And down below in the green wheat, the labourers +Stand like dark stumps, still in the green wheat. + +You are near to me, and your naked feet in their + sandals, +And through the scent of the balcony's naked + timber +I distinguish the scent of your hair: so now the + limber +Lightning falls from heaven. + +Adown the pale-green glacier river floats +A dark boat through the gloom--and whither? +The thunder roars. But still we have each other! +The naked lightnings in the heavens dither +And disappear--what have we but each other? +The boat has gone. + + ICKING + + +_FROHNLEICHNAM_ + +You have come your way, I have come my way; +You have stepped across your people, carelessly, + hurting them all; +I have stepped across my people, and hurt them + in spite of my care. + +But steadily, surely, and notwithstanding +We have come our ways and met at last +Here in this upper room. + +Here the balcony +Overhangs the street where the bullock-wagons + slowly +Go by with their loads of green and silver birch- + trees +For the feast of Corpus Christi. + +Here from the balcony +We look over the growing wheat, where the jade- + green river +Goes between the pine-woods, +Over and beyond to where the many mountains +Stand in their blueness, flashing with snow and the + morning. + +I have done; a quiver of exultation goes through + me, like the first +Breeze of the morning through a narrow white + birch. +You glow at last like the mountain tops when they + catch +Day and make magic in heaven. + +At last I can throw away world without end, and + meet you +Unsheathed and naked and narrow and white; +At last you can throw immortality off, and I see you +Glistening with all the moment and all your + beauty. + +Shameless and callous I love you; +Out of indifference I love you; +Out of mockery we dance together, +Out of the sunshine into the shadow, +Passing across the shadow into the sunlight, +Out of sunlight to shadow. + +As we dance +Your eyes take all of me in as a communication; +As we dance +I see you, ah, in full! +Only to dance together in triumph of being together +Two white ones, sharp, vindicated, +Shining and touching, +Is heaven of our own, sheer with repudiation. + + +_IN THE DARK_ + +A BLOTCH of pallor stirs beneath the high +Square picture-dusk, the window of dark sky. + +A sound subdued in the darkness: tears! +As if a bird in difficulty up the valley steers. + +"Why have you gone to the window? Why don't + you sleep? +How you have wakened me! But why, why do + you weep?" + +_"I am afraid of you, I am afraid, afraid! +There is something in you destroys me--!"_ + +"You have dreamed and are not awake, come here + to me." +_"No, I have wakened. It is you, you are cruel to +me!"_ + +"My dear!"--_"Yes, yes, you are cruel to me. You + cast +A shadow over my breasts that will kill me at last."_ + +"Come!"--_"No, I'm a thing of life. I give +You armfuls of sunshine, and you won't let me live."_ + +"Nay, I'm too sleepy!"--_"Ah, you are horrible; +You stand before me like ghosts, like a darkness + upright."_ + +"I!"--_"How can you treat me so, and love me? +My feet have no hold, you take the sky from above me."_ + +"My dear, the night is soft and eternal, no doubt +You love it!"--_"It is dark, it kills me, I am put out."_ + +"My dear, when you cross the street in the sun- + shine, surely +Your own small night goes with you. Why treat + it so poorly?" + +_"No, no, I dance in the sun, I'm a thing of life--"_ +"Even then it is dark behind you. Turn round, + my wife." + +_"No, how cruel you are, you people the sunshine +With shadows!"_--"With yours I people the +sunshine, yours and mine--" + +"In the darkness we all are gone, we are gone + with the trees +And the restless river;--we are lost and gone + with all these." + +_"But I am myself, I have nothing to do with these."_ +"Come back to bed, let us sleep on our mys- + teries. + +"Come to me here, and lay your body by mine, +And I will be all the shadow, you the shine. + +"Come, you are cold, the night has frightened you. +Hark at the river! It pants as it hurries through + +"The pine-woods. How I love them so, in their + mystery of not-to-be." +_"--But let me be myself, not a river or a tree."_ + +"Kiss me! How cold you are!--Your little breasts +Are bubbles of ice. Kiss me!--You know how + it rests + +"One to be quenched, to be given up, to be gone + in the dark; +To be blown out, to let night dowse the spark. + +"But never mind, my love. Nothing matters, + save sleep; +Save you, and me, and sleep; all the rest will + keep." + + +MUTILATION + +A THICK mist-sheet lies over the broken wheat. +I walk up to my neck in mist, holding my mouth up. +Across there, a discoloured moon burns itself out. + +I hold the night in horror; +I dare not turn round. + +To-night I have left her alone. +They would have it I have left her for ever. + +Oh my God, how it aches +Where she is cut off from me! + +Perhaps she will go back to England. +Perhaps she will go back, +Perhaps we are parted for ever. + +If I go on walking through the whole breadth of + Germany +I come to the North Sea, or the Baltic. + +Over there is Russia--Austria, Switzerland, France, + in a circle! +I here in the undermist on the Bavarian road. + +It aches in me. +What is England or France, far off, +But a name she might take? +I don't mind this continent stretching, the sea far + away; +It aches in me for her +Like the agony of limbs cut off and aching; +Not even longing, +It is only agony. + +A cripple! +Oh God, to be mutilated! +To be a cripple! + +And if I never see her again? + +I think, if they told me so +I could convulse the heavens with my horror. +I think I could alter the frame of things in my + agony. +I think I could break the System with my heart. +I think, in my convulsion, the skies would break. + +She too suffers. +But who could compel her, if she chose me against + them all? +She has not chosen me finally, she suspends her + choice. +Night folk, Tuatha De Danaan, dark Gods, govern + her sleep, +Magnificent ghosts of the darkness, carry off her + decision in sleep, +Leave her no choice, make her lapse me-ward, + make her, +Oh Gods of the living Darkness, powers of Night. + + WOLFRATSHAUSEN + + +_HUMILIATION_ + +I HAVE been so innerly proud, and so long alone, +Do not leave me, or I shall break. +Do not leave me. + +What should I do if you were gone again +So soon? +What should I look for? +Where should I go? +What should I be, I myself, +"I"? +What would it mean, this +I? + +Do not leave me. + +What should I think of death? +If I died, it would not be you: +It would be simply the same +Lack of you. +The same want, life or death, +Unfulfilment, +The same insanity of space +You not there for me. + +Think, I daren't die +For fear of the lack in death. +And I daren't live. + +Unless there were a morphine or a drug. + +I would bear the pain. +But always, strong, unremitting +It would make me not me. +The thing with my body that would go on + living +Would not be me. +Neither life nor death could help. + +Think, I couldn't look towards death +Nor towards the future: +Only not look. +Only myself +Stand still and bind and blind myself. + +God, that I have no choice! +That my own fulfilment is up against me +Timelessly! +The burden of self-accomplishment! +The charge of fulfilment! +And God, that she is _necessary!_ +_Necessary,_ and I have no choice! + +Do not leave me. + + +_A YOUNG WIFE_ + +THE pain of loving you +Is almost more than I can bear. + +I walk in fear of you. +The darkness starts up where +You stand, and the night comes through +Your eyes when you look at me. + +Ah never before did I see +The shadows that live in the sun! + +Now every tall glad tree +Turns round its back to the sun +And looks down on the ground, to see +The shadow it used to shun. + +At the foot of each glowing thing +A night lies looking up. + +Oh, and I want to sing +And dance, but I can't lift up +My eyes from the shadows: dark +They lie spilt round the cup. + +What is it?--Hark +The faint fine seethe in the air! + +Like the seething sound in a shell! +It is death still seething where +The wild-flower shakes its bell +And the sky lark twinkles blue-- + +The pain of loving you +Is almost more than I can bear. + + +_GREEN_ + +THE dawn was apple-green, +The sky was green wine held up in the sun, +The moon was a golden petal between. + +She opened her eyes, and green +They shone, clear like flowers undone +For the first time, now for the first time seen. + + ICKING + + +_RIVER ROSES_ + +BY the Isar, in the twilight +We were wandering and singing, +By the Isar, in the evening +We climbed the huntsman's ladder and sat + swinging +In the fir-tree overlooking the marshes, +While river met with river, and the ringing +Of their pale-green glacier water filled the evening. + +By the Isar, in the twilight +We found the dark wild roses +Hanging red at the river; and simmering +Frogs were singing, and over the river closes +Was savour of ice and of roses; and glimmering +Fear was abroad. We whispered: "No one + knows us. +Let it be as the snake disposes +Here in this simmering marsh." + + KLOSTER SCHAEFTLARN + + +_GLOIRE DE DIJON_ + +WHEN she rises in the morning +I linger to watch her; +She spreads the bath-cloth underneath the window +And the sunbeams catch her +Glistening white on the shoulders, +While down her sides the mellow +Golden shadow glows as +She stoops to the sponge, and her swung breasts +Sway like full-blown yellow +Gloire de Dijon roses. + +She drips herself with water, and her shoulders +Glisten as silver, they crumple up +Like wet and falling roses, and I listen +For the sluicing of their rain-dishevelled petals. +In the window full of sunlight +Concentrates her golden shadow +Fold on fold, until it glows as +Mellow as the glory roses. + + ICKING + + +_ROSES ON THE BREAKFAST +TABLE_ + +JUST a few of the roses we gathered from the Isar +Are fallen, and their mauve-red petals on the + cloth +Float like boats on a river, while other +Roses are ready to fall, reluctant and loth. + +She laughs at me across the table, saying +I am beautiful. I look at the rumpled young roses +And suddenly realise, in them as in me, +How lovely the present is that this day discloses. + + +_I AM LIKE A ROSE_ + +I AM myself at last; now I achieve +My very self. I, with the wonder mellow, +Full of fine warmth, I issue forth in clear +And single me, perfected from my fellow. + +Here I am all myself. No rose-bush heaving +Its limpid sap to culmination, has brought +Itself more sheer and naked out of the green +In stark-clear roses, than I to myself am brought. + + +_ROSE OF ALL THE WORLD_ + +I AM here myself; as though this heave of effort +At starting other life, fulfilled my own: +Rose-leaves that whirl in colour round a core +Of seed-specks kindled lately and softly blown + +By all the blood of the rose-bush into being-- +Strange, that the urgent will in me, to set +My mouth on hers in kisses, and so softly +To bring together two strange sparks, beget + +Another life from our lives, so should send +The innermost fire of my own dim soul out- + spinning +And whirling in blossom of flame and being upon + me! +That my completion of manhood should be the + beginning + +Another life from mine! For so it looks. +The seed is purpose, blossom accident. +The seed is all in all, the blossom lent +To crown the triumph of this new descent. + +Is that it, woman? Does it strike you so? +The Great Breath blowing a tiny seed of fire +Fans out your petals for excess of flame, +Till all your being smokes with fine desire? + +Or are we kindled, you and I, to be +One rose of wonderment upon the tree +Of perfect life, and is our possible seed +But the residuum of the ecstasy? + +How will you have it?--the rose is all in all, +Or the ripe rose-fruits of the luscious fall? +The sharp begetting, or the child begot? +Our consummation matters, or does it not? + +To me it seems the seed is just left over +From the red rose-flowers' fiery transience; +Just orts and slarts; berries that smoulder in the + bush +Which burnt just now with marvellous immanence. + +Blossom, my darling, blossom, be a rose +Of roses unchidden and purposeless; a rose +For rosiness only, without an ulterior motive; +For me it is more than enough if the flower un- + close. + + +_A YOUTH MOWING_ + +THERE are four men mowing down by the Isar; +I can hear the swish of the scythe-strokes, four +Sharp breaths taken: yea, and I +Am sorry for what's in store. + +The first man out of the four that's mowing +Is mine, I claim him once and for all; +Though it's sorry I am, on his young feet, knowing +None of the trouble he's led to stall. + +As he sees me bringing the dinner, he lifts +His head as proud as a deer that looks +Shoulder-deep out of the corn; and wipes +His scythe-blade bright, unhooks + +The scythe-stone and over the stubble to me. +Lad, thou hast gotten a child in me, +Laddie, a man thou'lt ha'e to be, +Yea, though I'm sorry for thee. + + +_QUITE FORSAKEN_ + +WHAT pain, to wake and miss you! + To wake with a tightened heart, +And mouth reaching forward to kiss you! + +This then at last is the dawn, and the bell + Clanging at the farm! Such bewilderment +Comes with the sight of the room, I cannot tell. + +It is raining. Down the half-obscure road + Four labourers pass with their scythes +Dejectedly;--a huntsman goes by with his load: + +A gun, and a bunched-up deer, its four little feet + Clustered dead.--And this is the dawn +For which I wanted the night to retreat! + + +_FORSAKEN AND FORLORN_ + +THE house is silent, it is late at night, I am alone. + From the balcony + I can hear the Isar moan, + Can see the white +Rift of the river eerily, between the pines, under + a sky of stone. + +Some fireflies drift through the middle air + Tinily. + I wonder where +Ends this darkness that annihilates me. + + +_FIREFLIES IN THE CORN_ + +_She speaks._ +Look at the little darlings in the corn! + The rye is taller than you, who think yourself +So high and mighty: look how the heads are + borne +Dark and proud on the sky, like a number of + knights +Passing with spears and pennants and manly scorn. + +Knights indeed!--much knight I know will ride + With his head held high-serene against the sky! +Limping and following rather at my side + Moaning for me to love him!--Oh darling rye +How I adore you for your simple pride! + +And the dear, dear fireflies wafting in between + And over the swaying corn-stalks, just above +All the dark-feathered helmets, like little green + Stars come low and wandering here for love +Of these dark knights, shedding their delicate + sheen! + +I thank you I do, you happy creatures, you dears + Riding the air, and carrying all the time +Your little lanterns behind you! Ah, it cheers + My soul to see you settling and trying to + climb +The corn-stalks, tipping with fire the spears. + +All over the dim corn's motion, against the blue + Dark sky of night, a wandering glitter, a + swarm +Of questing brilliant souls going out with their + true + Proud knights to battle! Sweet, how I warm +My poor, my perished soul with the sight of + you! + + +_A DOE AT EVENING_ + +As I went through the marshes +a doe sprang out of the corn +and flashed up the hill-side +leaving her fawn. + +On the sky-line +she moved round to watch, +she pricked a fine black blotch +on the sky. + +I looked at her +and felt her watching; +I became a strange being. +Still, I had my right to be there with her, + +Her nimble shadow trotting +along the sky-line, she +put back her fine, level-balanced head. +And I knew her. + +Ah yes, being male, is not my head hard-balanced, + antlered? +Are not my haunches light? +Has she not fled on the same wind with me? +Does not my fear cover her fear? + + IRSCHENHAUSEN + + +_SONG OF A MAN WHO IS +NOT LOVED_ + +THE space of the world is immense, before me and + around me; +If I turn quickly, I am terrified, feeling space + surround me; +Like a man in a boat on very clear, deep water, + space frightens and confounds me. + +I see myself isolated in the universe, and wonder +What effect I can have. My hands wave under +The heavens like specks of dust that are floating + asunder. + +I hold myself up, and feel a big wind blowing +Me like a gadfly into the dusk, without my know- + ing +Whither or why or even how I am going. + +So much there is outside me, so infinitely +Small am I, what matter if minutely +I beat my way, to be lost immediately? + +How shall I flatter myself that I can do +Anything in such immensity? I am too +Little to count in the wind that drifts me through. + + GLASHÜTTE + + +_SINNERS_ + +THE big mountains sit still in the afternoon light + Shadows in their lap; +The bees roll round in the wild-thyme with de- + light. + +We sitting here among the cranberries + So still in the gap +Of rock, distilling our memories + +Are sinners! Strange! The bee that blunders + Against me goes off with a laugh. +A squirrel cocks his head on the fence, and + wonders + +What about sin?--For, it seems + The mountains have +No shadow of us on their snowy forehead of + dreams + +As they ought to have. They rise above us + Dreaming +For ever. One even might think that they love us. + + _Little red cranberries cheek to cheek, + Two great dragon-flies wrestling; + You, with your forehead nestling + Against me, and bright peak shining to peak--_ + +There's a love-song for you!--Ah, if only + There were no teeming +Swarms of mankind in the world, and we were + less lonely! + + MAYRHOFEN + + +_MISERY_ + +OUT of this oubliette between the mountains +five valleys go, five passes like gates; +three of them black in shadow, two of them bright +with distant sunshine; +and sunshine fills one high valley bed, +green grass shining, and little white houses +like quartz crystals, +little, but distinct a way off. + +Why don't I go? +Why do I crawl about this pot, this oubliette, +stupidly? +Why don't I go? + +But where? +If I come to a pine-wood, I can't say +Now I am arrived! +What are so many straight trees to me! + + STERZING + + +_SUNDAY AFTERNOON IN +ITALY_ + +THE man and the maid go side by side +With an interval of space between; +And his hands are awkward and want to hide, +She braves it out since she must be seen. + +When some one passes he drops his head +Shading his face in his black felt hat, +While the hard girl hardens; nothing is said, +There is nothing to wonder or cavil at. + +Alone on the open road again +With the mountain snows across the lake +Flushing the afternoon, they are uncomfortable, +The loneliness daunts them, their stiff throats + ache. + +And he sighs with relief when she parts from him; +Her proud head held in its black silk scarf +Gone under the archway, home, he can join +The men that lounge in a group on the wharf. + +His evening is a flame of wine +Among the eager, cordial men. +And she with her women hot and hard +Moves at her ease again. + + _She is marked, she is singled out + For the fire: + The brand is upon him, look--you, + Of desire. + + They are chosen, ah, they are fated + For the fight! + Champion her, all you women! Men, menfolk + Hold him your light! + + Nourish her, train her, harden her + Women all! + Fold him, be good to him, cherish him + Men, ere he fall. + + Women, another champion! + This, men, is yours! + Wreathe and enlap and anoint them + Behind separate doors._ + + GARGNANO + + +_WINTER DAWN_ + +GREEN star Sirius +Dribbling over the lake; +The stars have gone so far on their road, +Yet we're awake! + +Without a sound +The new young year comes in +And is half-way over the lake. +We must begin + +Again. This love so full +Of hate has hurt us so, +We lie side by side +Moored--but no, + +Let me get up +And wash quite clean +Of this hate.-- +So green + +The great star goes! +I am washed quite clean, +Quite clean of it all. +But e'en + +So cold, so cold and clean +Now the hate is gone! +It is all no good, +I am chilled to the bone + +Now the hate is gone; +There is nothing left; +I am pure like bone, +Of all feeling bereft. + + +_A BAD BEGINNING_ + +THE yellow sun steps over the mountain-top +And falters a few short steps across the lake-- +Are you awake? + +See, glittering on the milk-blue, morning lake +They are laying the golden racing-track of the + sun; +The day has begun. + +The sun is in my eyes, I must get up. +I want to go, there's a gold road blazes before +My breast--which is so sore. + +What?--your throat is bruised, bruised with my + kisses? +Ah, but if I am cruel what then are you? +I am bruised right through. + +What if I love you!--This misery +Of your dissatisfaction and misprision +Stupefies me. + +Ah yes, your open arms! Ah yes, ah yes, +You would take me to your breast!--But no, +You should come to mine, +It were better so. + +Here I am--get up and come to me! +Not as a visitor either, nor a sweet +And winsome child of innocence; nor +As an insolent mistress telling my pulse's beat. + +Come to me like a woman coming home +To the man who is her husband, all the rest +Subordinate to this, that he and she +Are joined together for ever, as is best. + +Behind me on the lake I hear the steamer drum- + ming +From Austria. There lies the world, and here +Am I. Which way are you coming? + + +_WHY DOES SHE WEEP?_ + +HUSH then +why do you cry? +It's you and me +the same as before. + +If you hear a rustle +it's only a rabbit +gone back to his hole +in a bustle. + +If something stirs in the branches +overhead, it will be a squirrel moving +uneasily, disturbed by the stress +of our loving. + +Why should you cry then? +Are you afraid of God +in the dark? + +I'm not afraid of God. +Let him come forth. +If he is hiding in the cover +let him come forth. + +Now in the cool of the day +it is we who walk in the trees +and call to God "Where art thou?" +And it is he who hides. + +Why do you cry? +My heart is bitter. +Let God come forth to justify +himself now. + +Why do you cry? +Is it Wehmut, ist dir weh? +Weep then, yea +for the abomination of our old righteousness, + +We have done wrong +many times; +but this time we begin to do right. + +Weep then, weep +for the abomination of our past righteousness. +God will keep +hidden, he won't come forth. + + +_GIORNO DEI MORTI_ + +ALONG the avenue of cypresses +All in their scarlet cloaks, and surplices +Of linen go the chanting choristers, +The priests in gold and black, the villagers. . . . + +And all along the path to the cemetery +The round dark heads of men crowd silently, +And black-scarved faces of women-folk, wistfully +Watch at the banner of death, and the mystery. + +And at the foot of a grave a father stands +With sunken head, and forgotten, folded hands; +And at the foot of a grave a mother kneels +With pale shut face, nor either hears nor feels + +The coming of the chanting choristers +Between the avenue of cypresses, +The silence of the many villagers, +The candle-flames beside the surplices. + + +_ALL SOULS_ + +THEY are chanting now the service of All the Dead +And the village folk outside in the burying ground +Listen--except those who strive with their dead, +Reaching out in anguish, yet unable quite to + touch them: +Those villagers isolated at the grave +Where the candles burn in the daylight, and the + painted wreaths +Are propped on end, there, where the mystery + starts. + +The naked candles burn on every grave. +On your grave, in England, the weeds grow. + +But I am your naked candle burning, +And that is not your grave, in England, +The world is your grave. +And my naked body standing on your grave +Upright towards heaven is burning off to you +Its flame of life, now and always, till the end. + +It is my offering to you; every day is All Souls' + Day. + +I forget you, have forgotten you. +I am busy only at my burning, +I am busy only at my life. +But my feet are on your grave, planted. +And when I lift my face, it is a flame that goes up +To the other world, where you are now. +But I am not concerned with you. + I have forgotten you. + +I am a naked candle burning on your grave. + + +_LADY WIFE_ + +AH yes, I know you well, a sojourner + At the hearth; +I know right well the marriage ring you wear, + And what it's worth. + +The angels came to Abraham, and they stayed + In his house awhile; +So you to mine, I imagine; yes, happily + Condescend to be vile. + +I see you all the time, you bird-blithe, lovely + Angel in disguise. +I see right well how I ought to be grateful, + Smitten with reverent surprise. + +Listen, I have no use + For so rare a visit; +Mine is a common devil's + Requisite. + +Rise up and go, I have no use for you + And your blithe, glad mien. +No angels here, for me no goddesses, + Nor any Queen. + +Put ashes on your head, put sackcloth on + And learn to serve. +You have fed me with your sweetness, now I am sick, + As I deserve. + +Queens, ladies, angels, women rare, + I have had enough. +Put sackcloth on, be crowned with powdery ash, + Be common stuff. + +And serve now woman, serve, as a woman should, + Implicitly. +Since I must serve and struggle with the imminent + Mystery. + +Serve then, I tell you, add your strength to mine + Take on this doom. +What are you by yourself, do you think, and what + The mere fruit of your womb? + +What is the fruit of your womb then, you mother, + you queen, + When it falls to the ground? +Is it more than the apples of Sodom you scorn so, + the men + Who abound? + +Bring forth the sons of your womb then, and put + them + Into the fire +Of Sodom that covers the earth; bring them forth + From the womb of your precious desire. + +You woman most holy, you mother, you being + beyond + Question or diminution, +Add yourself up, and your seed, to the nought + Of your last solution. + + +_BOTH SIDES OF THE MEDAL_ + +AND because you love me +think you you do not hate me? +Ha, since you love me +to ecstasy +it follows you hate me to ecstasy. + +Because when you hear me +go down the road outside the house +you must come to the window to watch me go, +do you think it is pure worship? + +Because, when I sit in the room, +here, in my own house, +and you want to enlarge yourself with this friend of + mine, +such a friend as he is, +yet you cannot get beyond your awareness of me +you are held back by my being in the same world + with you, +do you think it is bliss alone? +sheer harmony? + +No doubt if I were dead, you must +reach into death after me, +but would not your hate reach even more madly + than your love? +your impassioned, unfinished hate? + +Since you have a passion for me, +as I for you, +does not that passion stand in your way like a + Balaam's ass? +and am I not Balaam's ass +golden-mouthed occasionally? +But mostly, do you not detest my bray? + +Since you are confined in the orbit of me +do you not loathe the confinement? +Is not even the beauty and peace of an orbit +an intolerable prison to you, +as it is to everybody? + +But we will learn to submit +each of us to the balanced, eternal orbit +wherein we circle on our fate +in strange conjunction. + +What is chaos, my love? +It is not freedom. +A disarray of falling stars coming to nought. + + +_LOGGERHEADS_ + +PLEASE yourself how you have it. +Take my words, and fling +Them down on the counter roundly; +See if they ring. + +Sift my looks and expressions, +And see what proportion there is +Of sand in my doubtful sugar +Of verities. + +Have a real stock-taking +Of my manly breast; +Find out if I'm sound or bankrupt, +Or a poor thing at best. + +For I am quite indifferent +To your dubious state, +As to whether you've found a fortune +In me, or a flea-bitten fate. + +Make a good investigation +Of all that is there, +And then, if it's worth it, be grateful-- +If not then despair. + +If despair is our portion +Then let us despair. +Let us make for the weeping willow. +I don't care. + + +_DECEMBER NIGHT_ + +TAKE off your cloak and your hat +And your shoes, and draw up at my hearth +Where never woman sat. + +I have made the fire up bright; +Let us leave the rest in the dark +And sit by firelight. + +The wine is warm in the hearth; +The flickers come and go. +I will warm your feet with kisses +Until they glow. + + +_NEW YEAR'S EVE_ + +THERE are only two things now, +The great black night scooped out +And this fire-glow. + +This fire-glow, the core, +And we the two ripe pips +That are held in store. + +Listen, the darkness rings +As it circulates round our fire. +Take off your things. + +Your shoulders, your bruised throat +Your breasts, your nakedness! +This fiery coat! + +As the darkness flickers and dips, +As the firelight falls and leaps +From your feet to your lips! + + +_NEW YEAR'S NIGHT_ + +Now you are mine, to-night at last I say it; +You're a dove I have bought for sacrifice, +And to-night I slay it. + +Here in my arms my naked sacrifice! +Death, do you hear, in my arms I am bringing +My offering, bought at great price. + +She's a silvery dove worth more than all I've got. +Now I offer her up to the ancient, inexorable God, +Who knows me not. + +Look, she's a wonderful dove, without blemish or + spot! +I sacrifice all in her, my last of the world, +Pride, strength, all the lot. + +All, all on the altar! And death swooping down +Like a falcon. 'Tis God has taken the victim; +I have won my renown. + + +_VALENTINE'S NIGHT_ + +You shadow and flame, +You interchange, +You death in the game! + +Now I gather you up, +Now I put you back +Like a poppy in its cup. + +And so, you are a maid +Again, my darling, but new, +Unafraid. + +My love, my blossom, a child +Almost! The flower in the bud +Again, undefiled. + +And yet, a woman, knowing +All, good, evil, both +In one blossom blowing. + + +_BIRTH NIGHT_ + +THIS fireglow is a red womb +In the night, where you're folded up +On your doom. + +And the ugly, brutal years +Are dissolving out of you, +And the stagnant tears. + +I the great vein that leads +From the night to the source of you, +Which the sweet blood feeds. + +New phase in the germ of you; +New sunny streams of blood +Washing you through. + +You are born again of me. +I, Adam, from the veins of me +The Eve that is to be. + +What has been long ago +Grows dimmer, we both forget, +We no longer know. + +You are lovely, your face is soft +Like a flower in bud +On a mountain croft. + +This is Noël for me. +To-night is a woman born +Of the man in me. + + +_RABBIT SNARED IN THE NIGHT_ + +WHY do you spurt and sprottle +like that, bunny? +Why should I want to throttle +you, bunny? + +Yes, bunch yourself between +my knees and lie still. +Lie on me with a hot, plumb, live weight, +heavy as a stone, passive, +yet hot, waiting. + +What are you waiting for? +What are you waiting for? +What is the hot, plumb weight of your desire on + me? +You have a hot, unthinkable desire of me, bunny. + +What is that spark +glittering at me on the unutterable darkness +of your eye, bunny? +The finest splinter of a spark +that you throw off, straight on the tinder of my + nerves! + +It sets up a strange fire, +a soft, most unwarrantable burning +a bale-fire mounting, mounting up in me. + +'Tis not of me, bunny. +It was you engendered it, +with that fine, demoniacal spark +you jetted off your eye at me. + +_I_ did not want it, +this furnace, this draught-maddened fire +which mounts up my arms +making them swell with turgid, ungovernable + strength. + +'Twas not _I_ that wished it, +that my fingers should turn into these flames +avid and terrible +that they are at this moment. + +It must have been _your_ inbreathing, gaping desire +that drew this red gush in me; +I must be reciprocating _your_ vacuous, hideous + passion. + +It must be the want in you +that has drawn this terrible draught of white fire +up my veins as up a chimney. + +It must be you who desire +this intermingling of the black and monstrous + fingers of Moloch +in the blood-jets of your throat. + +Come, you shall have your desire, +since already I am implicated with you +in your strange lust. + + +_PARADISE RE-ENTERED_ + +THROUGH the strait gate of passion, +Between the bickering fire +Where flames of fierce love tremble +On the body of fierce desire: + +To the intoxication, +The mind, fused down like a bead, +Flees in its agitation +The flames' stiff speed: + +At last to calm incandescence, +Burned clean by remorseless hate, +Now, at the day's renascence +We approach the gate. + +Now, from the darkened spaces +Of fear, and of frightened faces, +Death, in our awful embraces +Approached and passed by; + +We near the flame-burnt porches +Where the brands of the angels, like torches +Whirl,--in these perilous marches +Pausing to sigh; + +We look back on the withering roses, +The stars, in their sun-dimmed closes, +Where 'twas given us to repose us +Sure on our sanctity; + +Beautiful, candid lovers, +Burnt out of our earthy covers, +We might have nestled like plovers +In the fields of eternity. + +There, sure in sinless being, +All-seen, and then all-seeing, +In us life unto death agreeing, +We might have lain. + +But we storm the angel-guarded +Gates of the long-discarded, +Garden, which God has hoarded +Against our pain. + +The Lord of Hosts, and the Devil +Are left on Eternity's level +Field, and as victors we travel +To Eden home. + +Back beyond good and evil +Return we. Eve dishevel +Your hair for the bliss-drenched revel +On our primal loam. + + +_SPRING MORNING_ + +AH, through the open door +Is there an almond tree +Aflame with blossom! + --Let us fight no more. + +Among the pink and blue +Of the sky and the almond flowers +A sparrow flutters. + --We have come through, + +It is really spring!--See, +When he thinks himself alone +How he bullies the flowers. + --Ah, you and me + +How happy we'll be!--See him +He clouts the tufts of flowers +In his impudence. + --But, did you dream + +It would be so bitter? Never mind +It is finished, the spring is here. +And we're going to be summer-happy + And summer-kind. + +We have died, we have slain and been slain, +We are not our old selves any more. +I feel new and eager + To start again. + +It is gorgeous to live and forget. +And to feel quite new. +See the bird in the flowers?--he's making + A rare to-do! + +He thinks the whole blue sky +Is much less than the bit of blue egg +He's got in his nest--we'll be happy + You and I, I and you. + +With nothing to fight any more-- +In each other, at least. +See, how gorgeous the world is + Outside the door! + + SAN GAUDENZIO + + +_WEDLOCK_ + + I + +COME, my little one, closer up against me, +Creep right up, with your round head pushed in + my breast. + +How I love all of you! Do you feel me wrap + you +Up with myself and my warmth, like a flame + round the wick? + +And how I am not at all, except a flame that + mounts off you. +Where I touch you, I flame into being;--but is it + me, or you? + +That round head pushed in my chest, like a nut + in its socket, +And I the swift bracts that sheathe it: those + breasts, those thighs and knees, + +Those shoulders so warm and smooth: I feel + that I +Am a sunlight upon them, that shines them into + being. + +But how lovely to be you! Creep closer in, that + I am more. +I spread over you! How lovely, your round head, + your arms, + +Your breasts, your knees and feet! I feel that we +Are a bonfire of oneness, me flame flung leaping + round you, +You the core of the fire, crept into me. + + II + +AND oh, my little one, you whom I enfold, +How quaveringly I depend on you, to keep me + alive, +Like a flame on a wick! + +I, the man who enfolds you and holds you close, +How my soul cleaves to your bosom as I clasp you, +The very quick of my being! + +Suppose you didn't want me! I should sink down +Like a light that has no sustenance +And sinks low. + +Cherish me, my tiny one, cherish me who enfold + you. +Nourish me, and endue me, I am only of you, +I am your issue. + +How full and big like a robust, happy flame +When I enfold you, and you creep into me, +And my life is fierce at its quick +Where it comes off you! + + III + +MY little one, my big one, +My bird, my brown sparrow in my breast. +My squirrel clutching in to me; +My pigeon, my little one, so warm +So close, breathing so still. + +My little one, my big one, +I, who am so fierce and strong, enfolding you, +If you start away from my breast, and leave me, +How suddenly I shall go down into nothing +Like a flame that falls of a sudden. + +And you will be before me, tall and towering, +And I shall be wavering uncertain +Like a sunken flame that grasps for support. + + IV + +BUT now I am full and strong and certain +With you there firm at the core of me +Keeping me. + +How sure I feel, how warm and strong and happy +For the future! How sure the future is within me; +I am like a seed with a perfect flower enclosed. + +I wonder what it will be, +What will come forth of us. +What flower, my love? + +No matter, I am so happy, +I feel like a firm, rich, healthy root, +Rejoicing in what is to come. + +How I depend on you utterly +My little one, my big one! +How everything that will be, will not be of me, +Nor of either of us, +But of both of us. + + V + +AND think, there will something come forth from + us. +We two, folded so small together, +There will something come forth from us. +Children, acts, utterance +Perhaps only happiness. + +Perhaps only happiness will come forth from us. +Old sorrow, and new happiness. +Only that one newness. + +But that is all I want. +And I am sure of that. +We are sure of that. + + VI + +AND yet all the while you are you, you are not me. +And I am I, I am never you. +How awfully distinct and far off from each other's + being we are! + +Yet I am glad. +I am so glad there is always you beyond my scope, +Something that stands over, +Something I shall never be, +That I shall always wonder over, and wait for, +Look for like the breath of life as long as I live, +Still waiting for you, however old you are, and I + am, +I shall always wonder over you, and look for you. + +And you will always be with me. +I shall never cease to be filled with newness, +Having you near me. + + +_HISTORY_ + +THE listless beauty of the hour +When snow fell on the apple trees +And the wood-ash gathered in the fire +And we faced our first miseries. + +Then the sweeping sunshine of noon +When the mountains like chariot cars +Were ranked to blue battle--and you and I +Counted our scars. + +And then in a strange, grey hour +We lay mouth to mouth, with your face +Under mine like a star on the lake, +And I covered the earth, and all space. + +The silent, drifting hours +Of morn after morn +And night drifting up to the night +Yet no pathway worn. + +Your life, and mine, my love +Passing on and on, the hate +Fusing closer and closer with love +Till at length they mate. + + THE CEARNE + + +_SONG OF A MAN WHO HAS +COME THROUGH_ + +NOT I, not I, but the wind that blows through me! +A fine wind is blowing the new direction of Time. +If only I let it bear me, carry me, if only it carry + me! +If only I am sensitive, subtle, oh, delicate, a + winged gift! +If only, most lovely of all, I yield myself and am + borrowed +By the fine, fine wind that takes its course through + the chaos of the world +Like a fine, an exquisite chisel, a wedge-blade + inserted; +If only I am keen and hard like the sheer tip of a + wedge +Driven by invisible blows, +The rock will split, we shall come at the wonder, + we shall find the Hesperides. + +Oh, for the wonder that bubbles into my soul, +I would be a good fountain, a good well-head, +Would blur no whisper, spoil no expression. + + What is the knocking? + What is the knocking at the door in the night? + It is somebody wants to do us harm. + + No, no, it is the three strange angels. + Admit them, admit them. + + +_ONE WOMAN TO ALL WOMEN_ + +I DON'T care whether I am beautiful to you + You other women. +Nothing of me that you see is my own; +A man balances, bone unto bone +Balances, everything thrown + In the scale, you other women. + +You may look and say to yourselves, I do + Not show like the rest. +My face may not please you, nor my stature; yet + if you knew +How happy I am, how my heart in the wind rings + true +Like a bell that is chiming, each stroke as a stroke + falls due, + You other women: + +You would draw your mirror towards you, you + would wish + To be different. +There's the beauty you cannot see, myself and + him +Balanced in glorious equilibrium, +The swinging beauty of equilibrium, + You other women. + +There's this other beauty, the way of the stars + You straggling women. +If you knew how I swerve in peace, in the equi- + poise +With the man, if you knew how my flesh enjoys +The swinging bliss no shattering ever destroys + You other women: + +You would envy me, you would think me wonder- + ful + Beyond compare; +You would weep to be lapsing on such harmony +As carries me, you would wonder aloud that he +Who is so strange should correspond with me + Everywhere. + +You see he is different, he is dangerous, + Without pity or love. +And yet how his separate being liberates me +And gives me peace! You cannot see +How the stars are moving in surety + Exquisite, high above. + +We move without knowing, we sleep, and we + travel on, + You other women. +And this is beauty to me, to be lifted and gone +In a motion human inhuman, two and one +Encompassed, and many reduced to none, + You other women. + + KENSINGTON + + +_PEOPLE_ + +THE great gold apples of night +Hang from the street's long bough + Dripping their light +On the faces that drift below, +On the faces that drift and blow +Down the night-time, out of sight + In the wind's sad sough. + +The ripeness of these apples of night +Distilling over me + Makes sickening the white +Ghost-flux of faces that hie +Them endlessly, endlessly by +Without meaning or reason why + They ever should be. + + +_STREET LAMPS_ + +GOLD, with an innermost speck +Of silver, singing afloat + Beneath the night, +Like balls of thistle-down +Wandering up and down +Over the whispering town + Seeking where to alight! + +Slowly, above the street +Above the ebb of feet + Drifting in flight; +Still, in the purple distance +The gold of their strange persistence +As they cross and part and meet + And pass out of sight! + +The seed-ball of the sun +Is broken at last, and done + Is the orb of day. +Now to the separate ends +Seed after day-seed wends + A separate way. + +No sun will ever rise +Again on the wonted skies + In the midst of the spheres. +The globe of the day, over-ripe, +Is shattered at last beneath the stripe +Of the wind, and its oneness veers + Out myriad-wise. + +Seed after seed after seed +Drifts over the town, in its need + To sink and have done; +To settle at last in the dark, +To bury its weary spark + Where the end is begun. + +Darkness, and depth of sleep, +Nothing to know or to weep + Where the seed sinks in +To the earth of the under-night +Where all is silent, quite +Still, and the darknesses steep + Out all the sin. + + +_"SHE SAID AS WELL TO ME"_ + +SHE said as well to me: "Why are you ashamed? +That little bit of your chest that shows between +the gap of your shirt, why cover it up? +Why shouldn't your legs and your good strong + thighs +be rough and hairy?--I'm glad they are like + that. +You are shy, you silly, you silly shy thing. +Men are the shyest creatures, they never will come +out of their covers. Like any snake +slipping into its bed of dead leaves, you hurry into + your clothes. +And I love you so! Straight and clean and all of a + piece is the body of a man, +such an instrument, a spade, like a spear, or an + oar, +such a joy to me--" +So she laid her hands and pressed them down my + sides, +so that I began to wonder over myself, and what I + was. + +She said to me: "What an instrument, your + body! +single and perfectly distinct from everything else! +What a tool in the hands of the Lord! +Only God could have brought it to its shape. +It feels as if his handgrasp, wearing you +had polished you and hollowed you, +hollowed this groove in your sides, grasped you + under the breasts +and brought you to the very quick of your form, +subtler than an old, soft-worn fiddle-bow. + +"When I was a child, I loved my father's riding- + whip +that he used so often. +I loved to handle it, it seemed like a near part of + him. +So I did his pens, and the jasper seal on his desk. +Something seemed to surge through me when I + touched them. + +"So it is with you, but here +The joy I feel! +God knows what I feel, but it is joy! +Look, you are clean and fine and singled out! +I admire you so, you are beautiful: this clean + sweep of your sides, this firmness, this hard + mould! +I would die rather than have it injured with one + scar. +I wish I could grip you like the fist of the Lord, + and have you--" + +So she said, and I wondered, +feeling trammelled and hurt. +It did not make me free. + +Now I say to her: "No tool, no instrument, no + God! +Don't touch me and appreciate me. +It is an infamy. +You would think twice before you touched a + weasel on a fence +as it lifts its straight white throat. +Your hand would not be so flig and easy. +Nor the adder we saw asleep with her head on her + shoulder, +curled up in the sunshine like a princess; +when she lifted her head in delicate, startled + wonder +you did not stretch forward to caress her +though she looked rarely beautiful +and a miracle as she glided delicately away, with + such dignity. +And the young bull in the field, with his wrinkled, + sad face, +you are afraid if he rises to his feet, +though he is all wistful and pathetic, like a mono- + lith, arrested, static. + +"Is there nothing in me to make you hesitate? +I tell you there is all these. +And why should you overlook them in me?--" + + +_NEW HEAVEN AND EARTH_ + + I + +AND so I cross into another world +shyly and in homage linger for an invitation +from this unknown that I would trespass on. + +I am very glad, and all alone in the world, +all alone, and very glad, in a new world +where I am disembarked at last. + +I could cry with joy, because I am in the new world, + just ventured in. +I could cry with joy, and quite freely, there is + nobody to know. + +And whosoever the unknown people of this un- + known world may be +they will never understand my weeping for joy + to be adventuring among them +because it will still be a gesture of the old world I + am making +which they will not understand, because it is + quite, quite foreign to them. + + II + +I WAS so weary of the world +I was so sick of it +everything was tainted with myself, +skies, trees, flowers, birds, water, +people, houses, streets, vehicles, machines, +nations, armies, war, peace-talking, +work, recreation, governing, anarchy, +it was all tainted with myself, I knew it all to start + with +because it was all myself. + +When I gathered flowers, I knew it was myself + plucking my own flowering. +When I went in a train, I knew it was myself + travelling by my own invention. +When I heard the cannon of the war, I listened + with my own ears to my own destruction. +When I saw the torn dead, I knew it was my own + torn dead body. +It was all me, I had done it all in my own flesh. + + III + +I SHALL never forget the maniacal horror of it all + in the end +when everything was me, I knew it all already, I + anticipated it all in my soul +because I was the author and the result +I was the God and the creation at once; +creator, I looked at my creation; +created, I looked at myself, the creator: +it was a maniacal horror in the end. + +I was a lover, I kissed the woman I loved, +and God of horror, I was kissing also myself. +I was a father and a begetter of children, +and oh, oh horror, I was begetting and conceiving +in my own body. + + IV + +AT last came death, sufficiency of death, +and that at last relieved me, I died. +I buried my beloved; it was good, I buried + myself and was gone. +War came, and every hand raised to murder; +very good, very good, every hand raised to murder! +Very good, very good, I am a murderer! +It is good, I can murder and murder, and see + them fall +the mutilated, horror-struck youths, a multitude +one on another, and then in clusters together +smashed, all oozing with blood, and burned in heaps +going up in a foetid smoke to get rid of them +the murdered bodies of youths and men in heaps +and heaps and heaps and horrible reeking heaps +till it is almost enough, till I am reduced perhaps; +thousands and thousands of gaping, hideous foul + dead +that are youths and men and me +being burned with oil, and consumed in corrupt + thick smoke, that rolls +and taints and blackens the sky, till at last it is + dark, dark as night, or death, or hell +and I am dead, and trodden to nought in the + smoke-sodden tomb; +dead and trodden to nought in the sour black + earth +of the tomb; dead and trodden to nought, trodden + to nought. + + V + +GOD, but it is good to have died and been trodden + out +trodden to nought in sour, dead earth +quite to nought +absolutely to nothing +nothing +nothing +nothing. + +For when it is quite, quite nothing, then it is + everything. +When I am trodden quite out, quite, quite out +every vestige gone, then I am here +risen, and setting my foot on another world +risen, accomplishing a resurrection +risen, not born again, but risen, body the same as + before, +new beyond knowledge of newness, alive beyond + life +proud beyond inkling or furthest conception of + pride +living where life was never yet dreamed of, nor + hinted at +here, in the other world, still terrestrial +myself, the same as before, yet unaccountably new. + + VI + +I, IN the sour black tomb, trodden to absolute death +I put out my hand in the night, one night, and my + hand +touched that which was verily not me +verily it was not me. +Where I had been was a sudden blaze +a sudden flaring blaze! +So I put my hand out further, a little further +and I felt that which was not I, +it verily was not I +it was the unknown. + +Ha, I was a blaze leaping up! +I was a tiger bursting into sunlight. +I was greedy, I was mad for the unknown. +I, new-risen, resurrected, starved from the tomb +starved from a life of devouring always myself +now here was I, new-awakened, with my hand + stretching out +and touching the unknown, the real unknown, + the unknown unknown. + +My God, but I can only say +I touch, I feel the unknown! +I am the first comer! +Cortes, Pisarro, Columbus, Cabot, they are noth- + ing, nothing! +I am the first comer! +I am the discoverer! +I have found the other world! + +The unknown, the unknown! +I am thrown upon the shore. +I am covering myself with the sand. +I am filling my mouth with the earth. +I am burrowing my body into the soil. +The unknown, the new world! + + VII + +IT was the flank of my wife +I touched with my hand, I clutched with my + hand +rising, new-awakened from the tomb! +It was the flank of my wife +whom I married years ago +at whose side I have lain for over a thousand + nights +and all that previous while, she was I, she +was I; +I touched her, it was I who touched and I who was + touched. + +Yet rising from the tomb, from the black oblivion +stretching out my hand, my hand flung like a + drowned man's hand on a rock, +I touched her flank and knew I was carried by the + current in death +over to the new world, and was climbing out on + the shore, +risen, not to the old world, the old, changeless I, + the old life, +wakened not to the old knowledge +but to a new earth, a new I, a new knowledge, a + new world of time. + +Ah no, I cannot tell you what it is, the new world +I cannot tell you the mad, astounded rapture of + its discovery. +I shall be mad with delight before I have done, +and whosoever comes after will find me in the + new world +a madman in rapture. + + VIII + +GREEN streams that flow from the innermost + continent of the new world, +what are they? +Green and illumined and travelling for ever +dissolved with the mystery of the innermost heart + of the continent +mystery beyond knowledge or endurance, so sump- + tuous +out of the well-heads of the new world.-- +The other, she too has strange green eyes! +White sands and fruits unknown and perfumes + that never +can blow across the dark seas to our usual + world! +And land that beats with a pulse! +And valleys that draw close in love! +And strange ways where I fall into oblivion of + uttermost living!-- +Also she who is the other has strange-mounded + breasts and strange sheer slopes, and white + levels. + +Sightless and strong oblivion in utter life takes + possession of me! +The unknown, strong current of life supreme +drowns me and sweeps me away and holds me + down +to the sources of mystery, in the depths, +extinguishes there my risen resurrected life +and kindles it further at the core of utter mystery. + + GREATHAM + + +_ELYSIUM_ + +I HAVE found a place of loneliness +Lonelier than Lyonesse +Lovelier than Paradise; + +Full of sweet stillness +That no noise can transgress +Never a lamp distress. + +The full moon sank in state. +I saw her stand and wait +For her watchers to shut the gate. + +Then I found myself in a wonderland +All of shadow and of bland +Silence hard to understand. + +I waited therefore; then I knew +The presence of the flowers that grew +Noiseless, their wonder noiseless blew. + +And flashing kingfishers that flew +In sightless beauty, and the few +Shadows the passing wild-beast threw. + +And Eve approaching over the ground +Unheard and subtle, never a sound +To let me know that I was found. + +Invisible the hands of Eve +Upon me travelling to reeve +Me from the matrix, to relieve + +Me from the rest! Ah terribly +Between the body of life and me +Her hands slid in and set me free. + +Ah, with a fearful, strange detection +She found the source of my subjection +To the All, and severed the connection. + +Delivered helpless and amazed +From the womb of the All, I am waiting, dazed +For memory to be erased. + +Then I shall know the Elysium +That lies outside the monstrous womb +Of time from out of which I come. + + +_MANIFESTO_ + + I + +A WOMAN has given me strength and affluence. +Admitted! + +All the rocking wheat of Canada, ripening now, +has not so much of strength as the body of one + woman +sweet in ear, nor so much to give +though it feed nations. + +Hunger is the very Satan. +The fear of hunger is Moloch, Belial, the horrible + God. +It is a fearful thing to be dominated by the fear of + hunger. + +Not bread alone, not the belly nor the thirsty + throat. +I have never yet been smitten through the belly, + with the lack of bread, +no, nor even milk and honey. + +The fear of the want of these things seems to be + quite left out of me. +For so much, I thank the good generations of man- + kind. + + II + +AND the sweet, constant, balanced heat +of the suave sensitive body, the hunger for this +has never seized me and terrified me. +Here again, man has been good in his legacy to us, + in these two primary instances. + + III + +THEN the dumb, aching, bitter, helpless need, +the pining to be initiated, +to have access to the knowledge that the great dead +have opened up for us, to know, to satisfy +the great and dominant hunger of the mind; +man's sweetest harvest of the centuries, sweet, + printed books, +bright, glancing, exquisite corn of many a stubborn +glebe in the upturned darkness; +I thank mankind with passionate heart +that I just escaped the hunger for these, +that they were given when I needed them, +because I am the son of man. + +I have eaten, and drunk, and warmed and clothed + my body, +I have been taught the language of understanding, +I have chosen among the bright and marvellous + books, +like any prince, such stores of the world's supply +were open to me, in the wisdom and goodness of + man. +So far, so good. +Wise, good provision that makes the heart swell + with love! + + IV + +BUT then came another hunger +very deep, and ravening; +the very body's body crying out +with a hunger more frightening, more profound +than stomach or throat or even the mind; +redder than death, more clamorous. + +The hunger for the woman. Alas, +it is so deep a Moloch, ruthless and strong, +'tis like the unutterable name of the dread Lord, +not to be spoken aloud. +Yet there it is, the hunger which comes upon us, +which we must learn to satisfy with pure, real + satisfaction; +or perish, there is no alternative. + +I thought it was woman, indiscriminate woman, +mere female adjunct of what I was. +Ah, that was torment hard enough +and a thing to be afraid of, +a threatening, torturing, phallic Moloch. + +A woman fed that hunger in me at last. +What many women cannot give, one woman can; +so I have known it. + +She stood before me like riches that were mine. +Even then, in the dark, I was tortured, ravening, + unfree, +Ashamed, and shameful, and vicious. +A man is so terrified of strong hunger; +and this terror is the root of all cruelty. +She loved me, and stood before me, looking to me. +How could I look, when I was mad? I looked + sideways, furtively, +being mad with voracious desire. + + V + +THIS comes right at last. +When a man is rich, he loses at last the hunger fear. +I lost at last the fierceness that fears it will starve. +I could put my face at last between her breasts +and know that they were given for ever +that I should never starve +never perish; +I had eaten of the bread that satisfies +and my body's body was appeased, +there was peace and richness, +fulfilment. + +Let them praise desire who will, +but only fulfilment will do, +real fulfilment, nothing short. +It is our ratification +our heaven, as a matter of fact. +Immortality, the heaven, is only a projection of + this strange but actual fulfilment, +here in the flesh. + +So, another hunger was supplied, +and for this I have to thank one woman, +not mankind, for mankind would have prevented + me; +but one woman, +and these are my red-letter thanksgivings. + + VI + +To be, or not to be, is still the question. +This ache for being is the ultimate hunger. +And for myself, I can say "almost, almost, oh, + very nearly." +Yet something remains. +Something shall not always remain. +For the main already is fulfilment. + +What remains in me, is to be known even as I + know. +I know her now: or perhaps, I know my own + limitation against her. + +Plunging as I have done, over, over the brink +I have dropped at last headlong into nought, + plunging upon sheer hard extinction; +I have come, as it were, not to know, +died, as it were; ceased from knowing; surpassed + myself. +What can I say more, except that I know what it is +to surpass myself? + +It is a kind of death which is not death. +It is going a little beyond the bounds. +How can one speak, where there is a dumbness on + one's mouth? +I suppose, ultimately she is all beyond me, +she is all not-me, ultimately. +It is that that one comes to. +A curious agony, and a relief, when I touch that + which is not me in any sense, +it wounds me to death with my own not-being; + definite, inviolable limitation, +and something beyond, quite beyond, if you + understand what that means. +It is the major part of being, this having surpassed + oneself, +this having touched the edge of the beyond, and + perished, yet not perished. + + VII + +I WANT her though, to take the same from me. +She touches me as if I were herself, her own. +She has not realized yet, that fearful thing, that + I am the other, +she thinks we are all of one piece. +It is painfully untrue. + +I want her to touch me at last, ah, on the root and + quick of my darkness +and perish on me, as I have perished on her. + +Then, we shall be two and distinct, we shall have + each our separate being. +And that will be pure existence, real liberty. +Till then, we are confused, a mixture, unresolved, + unextricated one from the other. +It is in pure, unutterable resolvedness, distinction + of being, that one is free, +not in mixing, merging, not in similarity. +When she has put her hand on my secret, darkest + sources, the darkest outgoings, +when it has struck home to her, like a death, "this + is _him!_" +she has no part in it, no part whatever, +it is the terrible _other_, +when she knows the fearful _other flesh_, ah, dark- + ness unfathomable and fearful, contiguous and + concrete, +when she is slain against me, and lies in a heap + like one outside the house, +when she passes away as I have passed away +being pressed up against the _other_, +then I shall be glad, I shall not be confused with + her, +I shall be cleared, distinct, single as if burnished + in silver, +having no adherence, no adhesion anywhere, +one clear, burnished, isolated being, unique, +and she also, pure, isolated, complete, +two of us, unutterably distinguished, and in + unutterable conjunction. + +Then we shall be free, freer than angels, ah, + perfect. + + VIII + +AFTER that, there will only remain that all men + detach themselves and become unique, +that we are all detached, moving in freedom more + than the angels, +conditioned only by our own pure single being, +having no laws but the laws of our own being. + +Every human being will then be like a flower, + untrammelled. +Every movement will be direct. +Only to be will be such delight, we cover our faces + when we think of it +lest our faces betray us to some untimely fiend. + +Every man himself, and therefore, a surpassing + singleness of mankind. +The blazing tiger will spring upon the deer, un- + dimmed, +the hen will nestle over her chickens, +we shall love, we shall hate, +but it will be like music, sheer utterance, +issuing straight out of the unknown, +the lightning and the rainbow appearing in us + unbidden, unchecked, +like ambassadors. + + We shall not look before and after. + We shall _be_, _now_. + We shall know in full. + We, the mystic NOW. + + ZENNOR + + +_AUTUMN RAIN_ + +THE plane leaves +fall black and wet +on the lawn; + +The cloud sheaves +in heaven's fields set +droop and are drawn + +in falling seeds of rain; +the seed of heaven +on my face + +falling--I hear again +like echoes even +that softly pace + +Heaven's muffled floor, +the winds that tread +out all the grain + +of tears, the store +harvested +in the sheaves of pain + +caught up aloft: +the sheaves of dead +men that are slain + +now winnowed soft +on the floor of heaven; +manna invisible + +of all the pain +here to us given; +finely divisible +falling as rain. + + +_FROST FLOWERS_ + +IT is not long since, here among all these folk +in London, I should have held myself +of no account whatever, +but should have stood aside and made them way +thinking that they, perhaps, +had more right than I--for who was I? + +Now I see them just the same, and watch them. +But of what account do I hold them? + +Especially the young women. I look at them +as they dart and flash +before the shops, like wagtails on the edge of a + pool. + +If I pass them close, or any man, +like sharp, slim wagtails they flash a little aside +pretending to avoid us; yet all the time +calculating. + +They think that we adore them--alas, would it + were true! + +Probably they think all men adore them, +howsoever they pass by. + +What is it, that, from their faces fresh as spring, +such fair, fresh, alert, first-flower faces, +like lavender crocuses, snowdrops, like Roman + hyacinths, +scyllas and yellow-haired hellebore, jonquils, dim + anemones, +even the sulphur auriculas, +flowers that come first from the darkness, and feel + cold to the touch, +flowers scentless or pungent, ammoniacal almost; +what is it, that, from the faces of the fair young + women +comes like a pungent scent, a vibration beneath +that startles me, alarms me, stirs up a repulsion? + +They are the issue of acrid winter, these first- + flower young women; +their scent is lacerating and repellant, +it smells of burning snow, of hot-ache, +of earth, winter-pressed, strangled in corruption; +it is the scent of the fiery-cold dregs of corruption, +when destruction soaks through the mortified, + decomposing earth, +and the last fires of dissolution burn in the bosom + of the ground. + +They are the flowers of ice-vivid mortification, +thaw-cold, ice-corrupt blossoms, +with a loveliness I loathe; +for what kind of ice-rotten, hot-aching heart + must they need to root in! + + +_CRAVING FOR SPRING_ + +I WISH it were spring in the world. + +Let it be spring! +Come, bubbling, surging tide of sap! +Come, rush of creation! +Come, life! surge through this mass of mortifica- + tion! +Come, sweep away these exquisite, ghastly first- + flowers, +which are rather last-flowers! +Come, thaw down their cool portentousness, + dissolve them: +snowdrops, straight, death-veined exhalations of + white and purple crocuses, +flowers of the penumbra, issue of corruption, + nourished in mortification, +jets of exquisite finality; +Come, spring, make havoc of them! + +I trample on the snowdrops, it gives me pleasure + to tread down the jonquils, +to destroy the chill Lent lilies; +for I am sick of them, their faint-bloodedness, +slow-blooded, icy-fleshed, portentous. + +I want the fine, kindling wine-sap of spring, +gold, and of inconceivably fine, quintessential + brightness, +rare almost as beams, yet overwhelmingly potent, +strong like the greatest force of world-balancing. + +This is the same that picks up the harvest of wheat +and rocks it, tons of grain, on the ripening wind; +the same that dangles the globe-shaped pleiads of + fruit +temptingly in mid-air, between a playful thumb and + finger; +oh, and suddenly, from out of nowhere, whirls + the pear-bloom, +upon us, and apple- and almond- and apricot- + and quince-blossom, +storms and cumulus clouds of all imaginable + blossom +about our bewildered faces, +though we do not worship. + +I wish it were spring +cunningly blowing on the fallen sparks, odds and + ends of the old, scattered fire, +and kindling shapely little conflagrations +curious long-legged foals, and wide-eared calves, + and naked sparrow-bubs. + +I wish that spring +would start the thundering traffic of feet +new feet on the earth, beating with impatience. + +I wish it were spring, thundering +delicate, tender spring. +I wish these brittle, frost-lovely flowers of pas- + sionate, mysterious corruption +were not yet to come still more from the still- + flickering discontent. + +Oh, in the spring, the bluebell bows him down for + very exuberance, +exulting with secret warm excess, +bowed down with his inner magnificence! + +Oh, yes, the gush of spring is strong enough +to toss the globe of earth like a ball on a water-jet +dancing sportfully; +as you see a tiny celluloid ball tossing on a squint + of water +for men to shoot at, penny-a-time, in a booth at a + fair. + +The gush of spring is strong enough +to play with the globe of earth like a ball on a + fountain; +At the same time it opens the tiny hands of the + hazel +with such infinite patience. + +The power of the rising, golden, all-creative sap + could take the earth +and heave it off among the stars, into the in- + visible; +the same sets the throstle at sunset on a bough +singing against the blackbird; +comes out in the hesitating tremor of the primrose, +and betrays its candour in the round white straw- + berry flower, +is dignified in the foxglove, like a Red-Indian + brave. + +Ah come, come quickly, spring! +Come and lift us towards our culmination, we + myriads; +we who have never flowered, like patient cactuses. +Come and lift us to our end, to blossom, bring us + to our summer +we who are winter-weary in the winter of the world. +Come making the chaffinch nests hollow and cosy, +come and soften the willow buds till they are + puffed and furred, +then blow them over with gold. +Come and cajole the gawky colt's-foot flowers. + +Come quickly, and vindicate us +against too much death. +Come quickly, and stir the rotten globe of the + world from within, +burst it with germination, with world anew. +Come now, to us, your adherents, who cannot + flower from the ice. +All the world gleams with the lilies of Death the + Unconquerable, +but come, give us our turn. +Enough of the virgins and lilies, of passionate, + suffocating perfume of corruption, +no more narcissus perfume, lily harlots, the blades + of sensation +piercing the flesh to blossom of death. +Have done, have done with this shuddering, + delicious business +of thrilling ruin in the flesh, of pungent passion, + of rare, death-edged ecstasy. +Give us our turn, give us a chance, let our hour + strike, +O soon, soon! + +Let the darkness turn violet with rich dawn. +Let the darkness be warmed, warmed through to a + ruddy violet, +incipient purpling towards summer in the world + of the heart of man. + +Are the violets already here! +Show me! I tremble so much to hear it, that even + now +on the threshold of spring, I fear I shall die. +Show me the violets that are out. + +Oh, if it be true, and the living darkness of the + blood of man is purpling with violets, +if the violets are coming out from under the rack + of men, winter-rotten and fallen +we shall have spring. +Pray not to die on this Pisgah blossoming with + violets. +Pray to live through. + +If you catch a whiff of violets from the darkness of + the shadow of man +it will be spring in the world, +it will be spring in the world of the living; +wonderment organising itself, heralding itself with + the violets, +stirring of new seasons. + +Ah, do not let me die on the brink of such + anticipation! +Worse, let me not deceive myself. + + ZENNOR + + + +PRINTED AT +THE COMPLETE PRESS +WEST NORWOOD +LONDON + +Look! +We +Have +Come +Through! + +D.H. +LAWRENCE + +5s. +NET + +CHATTO & +WINDUS + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LOOK! WE HAVE COME THROUGH! *** + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will +be renamed. + +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the +United States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part +of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project +Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ +concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, +and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following +the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use +of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for +copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very +easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation +of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project +Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away--you may +do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected +by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark +license, especially commercial redistribution. + +START: FULL LICENSE + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project +Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full +Project Gutenberg™ License available with this file or online at +www.gutenberg.org/license. + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project +Gutenberg™ electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg™ +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or +destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in your +possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a +Project Gutenberg™ electronic work and you do not agree to be bound +by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the +person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph +1.E.8. + +1.B. “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg™ electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg™ electronic works if you follow the terms of this +agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg™ +electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the +Foundation” or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection +of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works. Nearly all the individual +works in the collection are in the public domain in the United +States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the +United States and you are located in the United States, we do not +claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, +displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as +all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope +that you will support the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting +free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg™ +works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the +Project Gutenberg™ name associated with the work. You can easily +comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the +same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg™ License when +you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are +in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, +check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this +agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, +distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any +other Project Gutenberg™ work. The Foundation makes no +representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any +country other than the United States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other +immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg™ License must appear +prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg™ work (any work +on which the phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the +phrase “Project Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, +performed, viewed, copied or distributed: + + 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 will have to check the laws of the country where + you are located before using this eBook. + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is +derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not +contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the +copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in +the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are +redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase “Project +Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply +either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or +obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg™ +trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any +additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms +will be linked to the Project Gutenberg™ License for all works +posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the +beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg™ +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg™. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg™ License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including +any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access +to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg™ work in a format +other than “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official +version posted on the official Project Gutenberg™ website +(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense +to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means +of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original “Plain +Vanilla ASCII” or other form. Any alternate format must include the +full Project Gutenberg™ License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg™ works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works +provided that: + +• You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg™ works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed + to the owner of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark, but he has + agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project + Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid + within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are + legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty + payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project + Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in + Section 4, “Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg + Literary Archive Foundation.” + +• You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg™ + License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all + copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue + all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg™ + works. + +• You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of + any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of + receipt of the work. + +• You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg™ works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project +Gutenberg™ electronic work or group of works on different terms than +are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing +from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of +the Project Gutenberg™ trademark. Contact the Foundation as set +forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project +Gutenberg™ collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg™ +electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may +contain “Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate +or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other +intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or +other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or +cannot be read by your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the “Right +of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg™ trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg™ electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium +with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you +with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in +lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person +or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second +opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If +the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing +without further opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you ‘AS-IS’, WITH NO +OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT +LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of +damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement +violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the +agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or +limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or +unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the +remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in +accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the +production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg™ +electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, +including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of +the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this +or any Project Gutenberg™ work, (b) alteration, modification, or +additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg™ work, and (c) any +Defect you cause. + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg™ + +Project Gutenberg™ is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of +computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It +exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations +from people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg™'s +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg™ collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg™ and future +generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see +Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at +www.gutenberg.org. + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation’s EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by +U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation’s business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, +Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up +to date contact information can be found at the Foundation’s website +and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact. + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg™ depends upon and cannot survive without +widespread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND +DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular +state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate. + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To +donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate. + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg™ electronic works + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project +Gutenberg™ concept of a library of electronic works that could be +freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and +distributed Project Gutenberg™ eBooks with only a loose network of +volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg™ eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in +the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not +necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper +edition. + +Most people start at our website which has the main PG search +facility: www.gutenberg.org. + +This website includes information about Project Gutenberg™, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + + |