Irony

David Herbert Lawrence 1885 (Eastwood, Nottinghamshire) – 1930 (Vence)



Always, sweetheart,
Carry into your room the blossoming boughs of cherry,
Almond and apple and pear diffuse with light, that very
Soon strews itself on the floor; and keep the radiance of spring
Fresh quivering; keep the sunny-swift March-days waiting
In a little throng at your door, and admit the one who is plaiting
Her hair for womanhood, and play awhile with her, then bid her depart.
 
   A come and go of March-day loves  
   Through the flower-vine, trailing screen;
     A fluttering in of doves.
   Then a launch abroad of shrinking doves
   Over the waste where no hope is seen
   Of open hands:  
     Dance in and out  
Small-bosomed girls of the spring of love,
With a bubble of laughter, and shrilly shout  
Of mirth; then the dripping of tears on your glove.

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Submitted on May 13, 2011

Modified on April 26, 2023

39 sec read
66

Quick analysis:

Scheme ABBCCCA DEDDEXFGFG
Closest metre Iambic pentameter
Characters 765
Words 133
Stanzas 2
Stanza Lengths 7, 10

David Herbert Lawrence

David Herbert Lawrence was an English writer and poet. His collected works represent, among other things, an extended reflection upon the dehumanising effects of modernity and industrialisation. Lawrence's writing explores issues such as sexuality, emotional health, vitality, spontaneity, and instinct. Lawrence's opinions earned him many enemies and he endured official persecution, censorship, and misrepresentation of his creative work throughout the second half of his life, much of which he spent in a voluntary exile he called his "savage pilgrimage". At the time of his death, his public reputation was that of a pornographer who had wasted his considerable talents. E. M. Forster, in an obituary notice, challenged this widely held view, describing him as "the greatest imaginative novelist of our generation." Later, the literary critic F. R. Leavis championed both his artistic integrity and his moral seriousness. more…

All David Herbert Lawrence poems | David Herbert Lawrence Books

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