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Don Juan Post by :Mihai Category :Poems Author :D. H. Lawrence Date :December 2010 Read :3227

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Don Juan

IT is Isis the mystery
Must be in love with me.

Here this round ball of earth
Where all the mountains sit
Solemn in groups,
And the bright rivers flit
Round them for girth.

Here the trees and troops
Darken the shining grass,
And many people pass
Plundered from heaven,
Many bright people pass,
Plunder from heaven.

What of the mistresses
What the beloved seven?
--They were but witnesses,
I was just driven.

Where is there peace for me?
Isis the mystery
Must be in love with me.

(The end)
D. H. Lawrence's poem: Don Juan

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The Sea The Sea

The Sea
You, you are all unloving, loveless, you;Restless and lonely, shaken by your own moods,You are celibate and single, scorning a comrade even,Threshing your own passions with no woman for the threshing-floor,Finishing your dreams for your own sake only,Playing your great game around the world, alone,Without playmate, or helpmate, having no one to cherish,No one to comfort, and refusing any comforter.Not like the earth, the spouse all full of increaseMoiled over with the rearing of her many-mouthed young;You are single, you are fruitless, phosphorescent, cold and callous,Naked of worship, of love or of adornment,Scorning the panacea even of labour,Sworn to a high

Martyr A La Mode Martyr A La Mode

Martyr A La Mode
AH God, life, law, so many names you keep,You great, you patient Effort, and you SleepThat does inform this various dream of living,You sleep stretched out for ever, ever givingUs out as dreams, you august SleepCoursed round by rhythmic movement of all time,The constellations, your great heart, the sunFierily pulsing, unable to refrain;Since you, vast, outstretched, wordless SleepPermit of no beyond, ah you, whose dreamsWe are, and body of sleep, let it never be saidI quailed at my appointed function, turned poltroonFor when at night, from out the full surchargeOf a day's experience, sleep does slowly drawThe harvest, the spent action