A Love Song

 

Reject me not if I should say to you

I do forget the sounding of your voice,

I do forget your eyes that searching through

The mists perceive our marriage, and rejoice.

 

Yet, when the apple-blossom opens wide

Under the pallid moonlight’s fingering,

I see your blanched face at my breast, and hide

My eyes from diligent work, malingering.

 

Ah, then, upon my bedroom I do draw

The blind to hide the garden, where the moon

Enjoys the open blossoms as they straw

Their beauty for his taking, boon for boon.

 

And I do lift my aching arms to you,

And I do lift my anguished, avid breast,

And I do weep for very pain of you,

And fling myself at the doors of sleep, for rest.

 

And I do toss through the troubled night for you,

Dreaming your yielded mouth is given to mine,

Feeling your strong breast carry me on into

The peace where sleep is stronger even than wine.

D H Lawrence

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