Cruelty and Love, by D. H. Lawrence
What large, dark hands are those at the window...
What large, dark hands are those at the window...
SINCE I lost you, my darling, the sky has com...
IN the choir the boys are singing the hymn.
Th...
I LISTEN to the stillness of you,
My dear, a...
MANY roses in the wind
Are tapping at the wind...
THE cuckoo and the coo-dove's ceaseless calling...
SHE bade me follow to her garden, where
The m...
Who can make a delicate adventure
Of walking o...
A trickle of dawn insinuated itself
Through th...
Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches i...
These are the days when birds come back,
A ve...
A something in a summer's day,
As slow her fl...
A train went through a burial gate,
A bird br...
On the marshes,
in the darkness,
before,
...
When I had pushed the narrow garden-door,
Onc...
I If death parts us, the tears will dry one d...
15th of 8th moon The flying mirror of the Moon...
What! Is the mocking bird come?
The Spring, h...
You know, we French stormed Ratisbon:
A mile...
SHE: Yet womanhood you reverence,
So you prof...
This is a spray the bird clung to,
Making it...
All that I know
Of a certain star
Is, it can...
Grow old along with me!
The best is yet to be,...
Sing me a hero! Quench my thirst
Of soul, ye ...
O the old wall here! How I could pass
Life in ...