David Herbert Lawrence

Here you will find the Poem Irony of poet David Herbert Lawrence


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.