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David Herbert Lawrence (Дэвид Герберт Лоуренс)


The Bride


My love looks like a girl to-night,
But she is old.
The plaits that lie along her pillow
Are not gold,
But threaded with filigree silver,
And uncanny cold.

She looks like a young maiden, since her brow
Is smooth and fair,
Her cheeks are very smooth, her eyes are closed.
She sleeps a rare
Still winsome sleep, so still, and so composed.

Nay, but she sleeps like a bride, and dreams her dreams
Of perfect things.
She lies at last, the darling, in the shape of her dream,
And her dead mouth sings
By its shape, like the thrushes in clear evenings.



David Herbert Lawrence's other poems:
  1. Week-Night Service
  2. Meeting among the Mountains
  3. The Mosquito
  4. Firelight And Nightfall
  5. Perfidy


Poems of another poets with the same name (Стихотворения других поэтов с таким же названием):

  • Caroline Norton (Каролина Нортон) The Bride ("SHE is standing by her loved one's side")

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