Read Ebook: Love Poems and Others by Lawrence D H David Herbert

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Ebook has 270 lines and 14423 words, and 6 pages

LOVE POEMS:-- PAGE Wedding Morn i. Kisses in the Train iii. Cruelty and Love v. Cherry Robbers viii. Lilies in the Fire ix. Coldness in Love xi. End of another Home-Holiday xiii. Reminder xvi. Bei Hennef xviii. Lightning xix. Song-Day in Autumn xxi. Aware xxiii. A Pang of Reminiscence xxiv. A White Blossom xxv. Red Moon-Rise xxvi. Return xxviii. The Appeal xxix. Repulsed xxx. Dream-Confused xxxii. Corot xxxiii. Morning Work xxxv. Transformations xxxvi. Renascence xxxviii. Dog-Tired xl. Michael-Angelo xli.

DIALECT POEMS:--

Violets xlii. Whether or Not xliv. A Collier's Wife liii. The Drained Cup lvi.

THE SCHOOLMASTER:--

WEDDING MORN

The morning breaks like a pomegranate In a shining crack of red, Ah, when to-morrow the dawn comes late Whitening across the bed, It will find me watching at the marriage gate And waiting while light is shed On him who is sleeping satiate, With a sunk, abandoned head.

And when the dawn comes creeping in, Cautiously I shall raise Myself to watch the morning win My first of days, As it shows him sleeping a sleep he got Of me, as under my gaze, He grows distinct, and I see his hot Face freed of the wavering blaze.

Then I shall know which image of God My man is made toward, And I shall know my bitter rod Or my rich reward. And I shall know the stamp and worth Of the coin I've accepted as mine, Shall see an image of heaven or of earth On his minted metal shine.

Yea and I long to see him sleep In my power utterly, I long to know what I have to keep, I long to see My love, that spinning coin, laid still And plain at the side of me, For me to count--for I know he will Greatly enrichen me.

And then he will be mine, he will lie In my power utterly, Opening his value plain to my eye He will sleep of me. He will lie negligent, resign His all to me, and I Shall watch the dawn light up for me This sleeping wealth of mine.

And I shall watch the wan light shine On his sleep that is filled of me, On his brow where the wisps of fond hair twine So truthfully, On his lips where the light breaths come and go Na?ve and winsomely, On his limbs that I shall weep to know Lie under my mastery.

KISSES IN THE TRAIN

I saw the midlands Revolve through her hair; The fields of autumn Stretching bare, And sheep on the pasture Tossed back in a scare.

And still as ever The world went round, My mouth on her pulsing Neck was found, And my breast to her beating Breast was bound.

But my heart at the centre Of all, in a swound Was still as a pivot, As all the ground On its prowling orbit Shifted round.

And still in my nostrils The scent of her flesh, And still my wet mouth Sought her afresh; And still one pulse Through the world did thresh.

And the world all whirling Around in joy Like the dance of a dervish Did destroy My sense--and my reason Spun like a toy.

But firm at the centre My heart was found; Her own to my perfect Heart-beat bound, Like a magnet's keeper Closing the round.

CRUELTY AND LOVE

What large, dark hands are those at the window Lifted, grasping the golden light Which weaves its way through the creeper leaves To my heart's delight?

Ah, only the leaves! But in the west, In the west I see a redness come Over the evening's burning breast-- --'Tis the wound of love goes home!

The woodbine creeps abroad Calling low to her lover: The sun-lit flirt who all the day Has poised above her lips in play And stolen kisses, shallow and gay Of pollen, now has gone away --She woos the moth with her sweet, low word, And when above her his broad wings hover Then her bright breast she will uncover And yield her honey-drop to her lover.

Into the yellow, evening glow Saunters a man from the farm below, Leans, and looks in at the low-built shed Where hangs the swallow's marriage bed. The bird lies warm against the wall. She glances quick her startled eyes Towards him, then she turns away Her small head, making warm display Of red upon the throat. His terrors sway Her out of the nest's warm, busy ball, Whose plaintive cry is heard as she flies In one blue stoop from out the sties Into the evening's empty hall.

Oh, water-hen, beside the rushes Hide your quaint, unfading blushes, Still your quick tail, and lie as dead, Till the distance folds over his ominous tread.

Ah soon in his large, hard hands she dies, And swings all loose to the swing of his walk. Yet calm and kindly are his eyes And ready to open in brown surprise Should I not answer to his talk Or should he my tears surmise.

I hear his hand on the latch, and rise from my chair Watching the door open: he flashes bare His strong teeth in a smile, and flashes his eyes In a smile like triumph upon me; then careless-wise He flings the rabbit soft on the table board And comes towards me: ah, the uplifted sword Of his hand against my bosom, and oh, the broad Blade of his hand that raise my face to applaud His coming: he raises up my face to him And caresses my mouth with his fingers, which still smell grim Of the rabbit's fur! God, I am caught in a snare! I know not what fine wire is round my throat, I only know I let him finger there My pulse of life, letting him nose like a stoat Who sniffs with joy before he drinks the blood: And down his mouth comes to my mouth, and down His dark bright eyes descend like a fiery hood Upon my mind: his mouth meets mine, and a flood Of sweet fire sweeps across me, so I drown Within him, die, and find death good.

CHERRY ROBBERS

Under the long, dark boughs, like jewels red In the hair of an Eastern girl Shine strings of crimson cherries, as if had bled Blood-drops beneath each curl.

Under the glistening cherries, with folded wings Three dead birds lie: Pale-breasted throstles and a blackbird, robberlings Stained with red dye.

Under the haystack a girl stands laughing at me, With cherries hung round her ears-- Offering me her scarlet fruit: I will see If she has any tears.

LILIES IN THE FIRE

Ah, you stack of white lilies, all white and gold, I am adrift as a sunbeam, and without form Or having, save I light on you to warm Your pallor into radiance, flush your cold

White beauty into incandescence: you Are not a stack of white lilies to-night, but a white And clustered star transfigured by me to-night, And lighting these ruddy leaves like a star dropped through

The slender bare arms of the branches, your tire-maidens Who lift swart arms to fend me off; but I come Like a wind of fire upon you, like to some Stray whitebeam who on you his fire unladens.

And you are a glistening toadstool shining here Among the crumpled beech-leaves phosphorescent, My stack of white lilies burning incandescent Of me, a soft white star among the leaves, my dear.

Is it with pain, my dear, that you shudder so? Is it because I have hurt you with pain, my dear?

Did I shiver?--Nay, truly I did not know-- A dewdrop may-be splashed on my face down here.

Why even now you speak through close-shut teeth. I have been too much for you--Ah, I remember!

The ground is a little chilly underneath The leaves--and, dear, you consume me all to an ember.

You hold yourself all hard as if my kisses Hurt as I gave them--you put me away--

Ah never I put you away: yet each kiss hisses Hot as a drop of fire wastes me away.

I am ashamed, you wanted me not to-night-- Nay, it is always so, you sigh with me. Your radiance dims when I draw too near, and my free Fire enters your petals like death, you wilt dead white.

Ah, I do know, and I am deep ashamed; You love me while I hover tenderly Like clinging sunbeams kissing you: but see When I close in fire upon you, and you are flamed

With the swiftest fire of my love, you are destroyed. 'Tis a degradation deep to me, that my best Soul's whitest lightning which should bright attest God stepping down to earth in one white stride,

Means only to you a clogged, numb burden of flesh Heavy to bear, even heavy to uprear Again from earth, like lilies wilted and sere Flagged on the floor, that before stood up so fresh.

COLDNESS IN LOVE

And you remember, in the afternoon The sea and the sky went grey, as if there had sunk A flocculent dust on the floor of the world: the festoon Of the sky sagged dusty as spider cloth, And coldness clogged the sea, till it ceased to croon.

A dank, sickening scent came up from the grime Of weed that blackened the shore, so that I recoiled Feeling the raw cold dun me: and all the time You leapt about on the slippery rocks, and threw The words that rang with a brassy, shallow chime.

And all day long that raw and ancient cold Deadened me through, till the grey downs darkened to sleep. Then I longed for you with your mantle of love to fold Me over, and drive from out of my body the deep Cold that had sunk to my soul, and there kept hold.

But still to me all evening long you were cold, And I was numb with a bitter, deathly ache; Till old days drew me back into their fold, And dim sheep crowded me warm with companionship, And old ghosts clustered me close, and sleep was cajoled.

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